Adventures of the Blade and the Ballad
by Berzerkerprime
Summary: So, just how do Arilyn Moonblade and Danilo Thann spend those long stretches of time in between the Songs and Swords books? Why, getting into more trouble and making their relationship more complicated, of course!
1. A Mark Upon the Soul

The Adventures of The Blade and the Ballad  
Episode One: A Mark Upon the Soul

By Berzerkerprime

Summary: Set between the last chapter and the epilogue of Elfshadow. Arilyn chooses the power that she will add to the Moonblade.

Notes for Episode One: Welcome! This is less a single fanfiction than it is a series of adventures set within the Songs and Swords series. Mainly, these are all fierce little plot bunnies that latched on to me and wouldn't let go. Some of them are gap-fillers, some are completely new stories, and all of them stem from a desire to have seen some unexplored aspect of Arilyn and Danilo's relationship in the series itself.

This episode can definitely be called a gap-filler. From reading the novels, we all know why Arilyn chooses the power for the Moonblade that she does. This short is written to explore the how. It's also supposed to address one small, lingering left-over from the Elfshadow plotline that has bothered me for some time as well as explain one small inconsistency between Elfshadow and Elfsong. I didn't really set out to make this an H/C bit, but it kinda turned out that way in many ways, although not purely. I hope that doesn't bother too many people. Enjoy! Sweet water to you!

* * *

_Arilyn drew the sword and pointed to the line of runes. "There are nine runes now; this new one is mine." She paused and chose her words carefully. "It is not so much a power, but the removal of certain restrictions." She turned the moonblade and offered it to Danilo, hilt first._

_His grey eyes filled with understanding. Arilyn was offering him far more than her sword. Deeply moved, he accepted the symbol of her friendship and cradled it in his burned hands. "A rare and precious thing," he murmured, looking not at the moonblade but at the half-elf's face. "You honor me by sharing it."_

_Their gaze clung for a long moment, the Arilyn's eyes slid away. Her uncertain expression tugged at Danilo's heart. To lighten the mood, he assumed a cocky grin and returned the magic sword to its master. "Things of value should always be shared. Your beauty, for instance." He drew a translucent gown from his bag with a flourish. "Now, about this gown..."_

_Arilyn's smile brightened her face. "Don't push it."_  
_- Elaine Cunningham, Elfshadow._

* * *

"Now it's over," she had said. She had stood there, beneath the statue of Hannali Celanil, looked directly at him, and said it.

But now, as her horse approached the Halfway Inn on the northwestern edge of the Evereskan Mountains, Arilyn Moonblade had her doubts. Certainly it was the end of the mess with Kymil Nimesin and her own Elfshadow; the mystery of the Harper Assassin had been solved. But Arilyn couldn't help but feel that something else was just beginning.

Absently, she stole a glance at one of her two traveling companions, riding close and being uncharacteristically silent. Danilo Thann looked haggard and drawn from the ordeal of the past few days and Arilyn could see that it was little more than willpower keeping his eyes open and his seat in the saddle. Every once in a while, his horse's reins would shift in his burned hands and he would wince.

Danilo looked as bad as Arilyn felt; utterly exhausted and saddled with aches and pains that weren't kind enough to wait until the morning. But he also looked strangely contemplative, a condition with which Arilyn could certainly sympathize.

"Well now, isn't that a sight for sore eyes!" Danilo exclaimed as the Halfway Inn came into view. "Finally, a good meal and a better night's sleep. Wouldn't you agree, my dear?"

"Forget the meal," Arilyn replied, "I could go straight to bed."

"Oh, but what kind of gentleman would I be then?"

Arilyn rolled her eyes skyward, seeking patience and thinking that perhaps she liked Danilo better quiet. "Don't start," she warned him, sending him a venomous glare.

"I think that I'm obligated to second that," said Bran Skorlsun, riding ahead of them a couple horse lengths.

Danilo grimaced and cast a look toward the aging Harper. "Oh, right! I now have to contend with the paternal protection problem." He leaned in closer to Arilyn and whispered just loud enough to be heard over the horses' hooves. "That is what the sword is for, though."

"I heard that!" Bran shot back at him.

"My sword's bigger," Arilyn warned Danilo, completely deadpan.

"Oh dear, one might think that I've just been insulted," said Danilo.

"That was the idea."

"Oh."

The witty banter ceased as they all came to the inn and saw to their horses. Like the three travelers, Arilyn's grey mare and the two rather temperamental horses Danilo and Bran had purchased in their haste to get to Evereska were road weary and eagerly searched for rest and food. As soon as they were penned and found themselves near water, they drank deeply, their tongues lapping noisily.

"That, my excitable equine, is the first thing upon which we have agreed all day," Danilo said to his horse as he leaned heavily against the wall of the stable. One of the mare's ears swiveled back at him, but she continued to drink without a glance back.

Seeing to her own mare took Arilyn somewhat longer. She watched the horse carefully for several minutes to make certain she was comfortable and well stocked with food and water. When she was finally satisfied with the arrangements, Arilyn made for the doorway with Bran hot on her heels. When Danilo didn't make a move to follow, she looked to him and found him still leaning with his back against the wall, eyes closed tiredly.

"Danilo, are you coming?" she prompted. "Or are you going to spend the night in the barn?"

"Hmm?" Dan queried, startled and looking up at her. "Yes, yes of course." With some effort, he pushed himself up and fell into step next to Arilyn.

The night was growing dark and so she couldn't be certain, but something about the look on Danilo's face was troubling Arilyn. She watched him closely as they walked from the stable to the inn, trying to put her finger on it. But try as she might, she just couldn't figure out what it was. It was as if she was looking at something she could only see when she did not look directly at it, the way someone in her youth had taught her to see faint stars.

Arilyn was relieved to find that the Moon Elf proprietor, Myrin Silverspear, had already retired for the night. One of his Elven barmaids had taken his place at the tavern bar. Bran Skorlsun was known to the enigmatic innkeeper and Arilyn was not in the mood to explain his presence to Myrin; she was far too tired.

The three travelers went into the tavern portion of the Halfway Inn and claimed one of the curtained booths at the back of the room, hoping to shut out the noise and shuffle of the rest of the place just that much. Soon, food had been brought for them and Arilyn and Bran both dug into their meals with fervor. But it didn't go unnoticed to Arilyn that Danilo picked at his plate lackadaisically, only taking a small bite every once in a while and chewing it long and unnecessarily well. And still, there was that odd silence that had settled over him, even as she and Bran chatted amicably.

"Something wrong with your food?" Arilyn asked Danilo, finally having had enough of the odd little faces he was making with each tentative swallow.

Danilo lazily pushed his plate aside and leaned back in his seat. "Myrin should see to his cook. Imagine! A perfectly good piece of chicken ruined with too much thyme and pepper." With a sigh, he stood. "Well, I wasn't all that hungry anyway. I believe I will turn in for the night." He pulled back the curtain and stepped out of the booth. "See you on the morrow," he tossed over his shoulder as he left.

Curiously, Bran reached over and took a bite of Danilo's discarded meal. "That's odd," he said.

"What is?" Arilyn asked.

"There isn't any thyme in this at all. Pepper, yes. And he's right, too much of it. But no thyme."

Arilyn gave Bran a confused look, then briefly pulled back the booth's curtain to catch a glimpse of the retreating Danilo. She spotted him just as he was beginning to make his way up the stairs to the second floor and the inn's lodgings. He moved a little more slowly than usual, Arilyn thought, and as he went his toe caught on the edge of one stair, nearly toppling him face-first. He caught himself on the rail, though, and steadied himself with a small shake of his head before continuing up.

"He's probably just looking for some time to himself," Arilyn said to Bran, letting the curtain fall back into place, "he's had to stick to me like tar for the past tenday. I'm sure he has his reasons."

"If you say so," said Bran, "you know him better than I do."

Arilyn halted for a moment at that before allowing herself a small, lop-sided, and ironic smile. "I'm not so certain of that."

* * *

Arilyn and Bran both sought their own rooms not long later. But, as exhausted as she was, Arilyn found that sleep was still elusive. It was a clear night and the starlight streamed into her window as she lay motionless on her bed. On the floor immediately next to her, the Moonblade lay more quiet and still than Arilyn had ever known it to be, as if it, too, was resting after the long ordeal.

The half-Elf pondered the eight runes along the sword's blade, each signifying a power that had been added to the blade by one of Arilyn's Elven ancestors, the previous wielders. Now that the blade was whole once again, now that the moonstone had been replaced in its pommel, Arilyn would be able to add her own power to the Moonblade. To do so was both her right and her duty.

But Arilyn wondered what she would ever need from the blade. Each of the previous wielders had added a power that reflected some need. The twinborn Zoastria had added the power of the Elfshadow, looking to refill the hole in her soul left by her lost sister. Arilyn's own mother, Z'beryl, had added the power of the Elfgate, seeking to bridge the two worlds in which she walked. It was as if the Moonblade had been able to fill the void in the hearts of its wielders. Though she could not see how such an ability would help her, such a thing was attractive to Arilyn whose heart had holes aplenty.

And yet, other powers seemed to be purely practical things. The ability to strike quickly, to be warned of danger at all times, to walk through fire; all of these seemed little more than tools. Necessary in the end, but of little spiritual relevance.

In the middle of this line of thought, Arilyn heard a loud thump from the room next door, where she knew Danilo was sleeping. Instantly and instinctively, she snatched up the Moonblade as she leaped from her bed and rushed out into the hallway and to the door of Danilo's room. She pushed it open quickly, ignoring the noise she made while doing it, and charged in, sword ready.

What she found, though, brought her to an instant halt. There was no visible danger anywhere in Danilo's room and a quick glance at the Moonblade proved it as it was lacking its blue glow of warning. What was in the room was one foggy-eyed dandy, slowly picking himself out of tangled blankets strewn all over the floor next to the bed, cursing softly as he did.

The tip of Arilyn's sword dropped to the floor, along with her jaw. "You fell out of bed?" she asked Danilo in a tone that suggested she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Good heavens, my dear!" Danilo exclaimed. "Do you really unsheathe that thing for every bump in the night?"

"Only when I know that the bump might mean someone is about to get himself killed thanks to his own idiocy," Arilyn replied quickly, sliding the Moonblade back into its ancient sheath.

"Well, I'm certain there's a clever retort to that somewhere around here, but as for right now, you'll have to forgive me for not finding it," Danilo clipped out, crossly pushing aside the blankets and rising. He weaved slightly and his legs crumpled under him, depositing him soundly back on the floor. "Oh, dear. I must have hit the floor harder than I thought."

Concerned now, Arilyn crossed the room to the small nightstand sitting against one wall. Leaning the Moonblade against it, she snatched up the tiny bit of flint and steel and used it to light the small lamp. This she brought closer to Danilo who squinted and looked away from it with a soft groan.

"You're pale as a ghost," Arilyn observed, putting a hand to his face to turn it back to her, "and feverish."

"Oh, don't worry about that," said Danilo, "it happens sometimes to wizards who cast powerful spells for the first time. Exhaustion and all that. I'm sure it's nothing to concern yourself with. A day of rest and I'll be up and raising your hackles for certain."

"Just stop babbling like a fool and get back into bed," Arilyn ordered, setting the lamp aside and pulling Danilo up by an elbow, careful to avoid the burns on his hands. But in the process something caught her eye, a blue glow reflecting off the white of Danilo's shirt. Her eyes quickly searched for the source as Danilo sat on the edge of the bed and she traced it back to the palm of his hand. Danilo was about to pull it away from her grasp, but she held his wrist tight.

The dandy flashed her a cheesy smirk and rested his other hand on top of hers. "Well, if I had known this is all it took to win your hand, my dear, I would have gotten ill much sooner than this!"

"Don't be a fool," Arilyn snapped, throwing off his one hand and quickly turning over the other for inspection, a small part of her mind realizing that it was his left.

Danilo's joking expression vanished almost instantly. "Nine hells!" he exclaimed in a whisper.

There, blazing forth in an eldritch blue glow, was the symbol of the Harpers.

"Kymil's magic brand," Arilyn said, fearfully, "how is this possible?"

"Arilyn, Lord Thann," Bran Skorlsun said, appearing at the door, bleary-eyed and looking as if he, too, had just rolled out of bed. "What's going on in here? I heard a crash and some loud voices."

Myrin Silverspear, too, appeared behind the old Harper. "Is everything all right in here?" he asked.

"No," Arilyn answered, "we've got a problem." Danilo protested, but she lifted his hand to show the Harper and the Elf the glowing brand.

"The Harper Assassin?" Bran said with impossible wonder. "He yet lives?"

Arilyn shook her head. "No, all of that has been dealt with. But Danilo was branded by Kymil before, in Waterdeep."

"But I thought you had gotten the poison cured," said Bran, quickly crossing the room and inspecting Danilo's hand with a probing finger. "Why has the brand returned?"

The dandy gritted his teeth and winced at the touch. "That sort of hurts you know," he said.

"Actually, the effects went away on their own," said Arilyn to the aging Ranger, "Loene just gave him some apricot brandy to help him save face."

"It was never actually treated, then," said Myrin, also entering the room and also taking a closer look at Danilo's hand. He uncurled the nobleman's fingers for a better view.

Danilo finally gave a cry and pulled his captive hand free. "I beg pardon, but that _is_ still attached to my arm and it _does_ still have a fair number of burns. By Mystra, it's no wonder none of you ever turned to the Clerical orders of Faerûn. You three have the collective bedside manner of Cyric with a bee sting." He folded his arms up against his chest and shivered. "Now, if one of you could kindly hand me the blankets? It's frightfully cold."

With concern naked on her face, Arilyn stooped to gather up Danilo's blankets. She draped one over Danilo's shoulders and guided him further on to the bed to lean against the headboard and a pillow. The rest of the blankets she piled on top of his chest and outstretched legs.

"He's already showing the signs," she said to Bran and Myrin, "the poison has returned and is attacking his body again. He's got a fever and he's so disoriented that he can't stand on his own."

"But why has the brand returned now?" Myrin pondered aloud. "Why not sooner?"

"The spell that moved the Elfgate," stated Bran, "I saw him after he cast it; he was exhausted, could barely stay on his feet. The poison was never actually treated, so his body's been fighting it all along."

"Only now, after casting the spell, he doesn't have the energy," Arilyn realized. She leaned in closer to Danilo, placing a hand on his forehead. "The fever's already climbing. Myrin."

The innkeeper was already in motion, heading for the door. "You'll need cold water and a cloth. I'll see what I have in my store of potions, as well." He hurried from the room and disappeared down the stairs.

Danilo's head lolled backward into the pillow and he squeezed his eyes closed. His breath was already starting to come in drawn out gasps. "A potion alone won't be enough," he stated, "it's the brand that's the source of the poison."

"It will have to be removed magically," said Arilyn, "we need a Cleric. But Myrin's potions can help in the meantime."

"There may be a Cleric nearby," suggested Bran.

"Could you find out?" Arilyn asked of him.

The old Harper nodded. "I'll see who I can find. But Arilyn..." He trailed off and motioned the half-Elf aside, away from the ailing Danilo. He lowered his voice. "There's something else to consider. The boy is the only one who can verify the whole story of the Harper Assassin. He's the only one who was there, with you, for the whole thing. Kymil Nimesin must still stand trial. If Myrin's potions run out before I can find a Cleric and Thann dies, it will be a lot harder to prove it was Kymil and not you who was the Harper Assassin."

Arilyn scrubbed a hand over her face and sighed heavily. "That's a comforting thought," she said with sarcasm, "thank you so much for that."

"Perhaps..." Bran trailed off with a sigh, hesitating with his next suggestion. "Perhaps you should have him write down what he's seen and heard of the whole affair."

Arilyn was already shaking her head before Bran finished. "No, I won't make him waste his energy on that."

"Just as a precaution, Arilyn. He may not survive this."

"Look at him! He's using every bit of strength he has just to fight the poison and stay conscious! If we have him write his memoirs while he's at it, he won't survive it! I can't ask anyone to sacrifice themselves like that for my sake. If Danilo dies, I stand trial as the Harper Assassin and it's as simple as that. And I can't believe you would ask something like that of me."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... It's just that, now that I have found my daughter after so long-"

"Enough!" Arilyn snapped, turning her back to Bran and wandering back over to Danilo. "You're wasting time that Danilo does not have. Just go find a Cleric."  
Bran started at that, pausing to look at Arilyn in surprise for but a moment before leaving the room.

Arilyn pulled a nearby chair up next to Danilo's bed and sat upon it, feeling the nobleman's head once more. With effort, Danilo opened his eyes and looked up at her, a smile weakly lighting his features. "Alone at last," he quipped.

"Don't get delusional on me. Myrin will be back with some cold water any moment. We're going to bring down your fever and have you drink a potion or two."

"Mmm. There's nothing like drinking something that tastes like it came out of the Waterdeep sewers. Home cooking, that."

"You should stop talking so much and save your strength."

One of Danilo's hands slowly snaked its way from out of the blankets and reached over to grasp Arilyn's hand. It was weak and it trembled, but there was something about it that felt desperate.

"I'm frightened, Arilyn."

"Don't be. Bran is going to bring a Cleric. All you have to worry about is getting well again."

Danilo's head lolled to one side, looking away from her, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Danilo, look at me," Arilyn said. When it got no reaction from him, she reached over and turned his head back to face her. "Look at me." His eyes slowly opened again and with effort they focused on her through the haze of fever. "You will not die. Do you understand?"

After a moment, he gave a small nod of understanding.

"You will not die," Arilyn repeated to him, now holding his hand tightly in hers.

* * *

By the time the sun had risen, Danilo had fallen into a fitful sleep. Arilyn had spent the night plastering his blonde hair to the sides of his head with cloths soaked in cold water, but it seemed to do little to alleviate the fever. Myrin's search had turned up only two anti-poison potions, the second of which Arilyn now held firmly in one hand, pondering whether to rouse Danilo and have him drink it or to save it for if the fever got worse. The first she had given to him as soon as Myrin had returned with it. The innkeeper was presently off visiting the other businessmen of the town, hoping to turn up a few more of the precious concoctions.

Arilyn, herself, had yet to get any real sleep. She had, at times, found herself drifting in and out, her bobbing head startling her awake enough to stay awake for a few more minutes. When this was not enough, she got out of her seat and paced back and forth in the room, now looking out the window at the rapidly growing sunlight, now listening at the door for the approaching footsteps of either Myrin or Bran.

It was during one of these sessions of pacing that she heard Danilo give a soft cry in his sleep. One shaking hand reached out of the blankets and waved at the air weakly, as if trying to clear something out of his way.

"The city's on fire," he mumbled, "they're attacking in hoards!"

"Danilo?" Arilyn asked, quickly moving back to his side. She found that the cloth had fallen from his forehead, so she rewet it and put it back. He remained asleep, however, still trapped in whatever dream he was having.

"Waterdeep's burning," he continued, "it's Myrkul's legion! No! Uncle Khelben!"

He was beginning to outright thrash when Arilyn decided to wake him, catching both his wrists in hand and calling his name several times. Finally, Danilo shook himself awake and dazedly focused his grey eyes on her.

"Have to get out of the city," he told her, "it's burning. They're going to destroy it."

"No, they're not," Arilyn stated evenly, "nothing is burning. It was a dream. Just calm down."

Slowly, realization crept through Danilo's fevered mind. He cautiously looked about the room as if searching for the specters had he just been seeing, wondering where they had gone.

"Do you remember where you are?" Arilyn asked him a moment later.

"The... the Halfway Inn," he answered after some concentration. Then, a weak smile made its way on to his face. "We decided on my room, then?"

Arilyn blinked stupidly. Then, with an exasperated sigh, she let go of Danilo's wrists and plopped back down in the chair next to him. "I don't believe you," she said, "deathly ill and half delirious and still you manage to find the energy to think up the dirty jokes. There is something wrong with your mind."

"Perhaps, but it certainly is fun."

"Only for you."

"But, my dear, that is precisely the person who counts."

Arilyn rolled her eyes so hard that their momentum carried her out of her seat. She began to pace again in frustration, but her feet somehow thought better of it and she never managed to get more than an arms' length away from the chair.

"Why are you still trying to fool me with that?" she snapped. "Why do you keep up this pretense of an arrogant, spoiled, vulgar, cowardly, and utterly _useless_ dandy of a half-baked wizard when you and I both you that you are none of these things?"

"Good heavens! Was that a compliment? Tell me, then, where is the real Arilyn Moonblade?"

"Danilo!"

"'Sing me a song, bard, of a man with two faces.' That was what you said to me."

Arilyn's resolve crumbled at that for Danilo's tone had completely changed, just as quickly and easily as if someone had blown out a candle. Jest had been replaced by steel and though his grey eyes did not look her way, Arilyn could see them flashing even in their fever. With some effort, Danilo put an arm under himself and sat up slightly to look at her.

"Was it not?" he continued. "I put on no show, Arilyn. For I am a man with two faces. And each is a part of who I am and how I live. I may just as well discard an arm as discard one of them. Certainly you understand what it is to be not wholly one thing or another."

Slowly, shocked into silence and stillness, Arilyn nodded at him. And just then, only as it was lifting from him, she noticed an odd desperation in his gaze, as if something he had long searched for, needing to find, had been found at last.

The arm that was propping Danilo up shook and finally collapsed under him. The stricken nobleman flopped back onto his side, curling in on himself with a grimace and a stifled moan. Arilyn was instantly in motion, leaning over him and rolling him onto his back, feeling his face again. As if in reflex, he pushed against her hands, trying to coil himself around his own abdomen, but his resistance was very weak.

"What is it?" she asked him with urgency.

"My stomach feels as though it's on fire!" he told her with great effort.

"You're moving around too much, using too much energy. You have to calm down."

"Burning on the inside and freezing on the outside! One would think it would even out a little."

Arilyn's hand tightened around the vial in her hand, the one potion remaining to her. She had hoped to save it longer than the scant few hours that had passed since she had given Danilo the first. She had also hoped that Bran would have returned with a cleric before this moment. Honestly, she had ultimately hoped not to have to make the decision. But now it had come to it. She had never shied away from a decision in her life and she would not now.

Quickly, she popped the cork out of the vial and helped Danilo to sit up.

"Drink this," Arilyn said, "it'll help you rest for a while, at least." She pushed the opening of the vial into Danilo's mouth and tipped it up. The nobleman made a face as he drank it.

"Not a good year," he deadpanned through his pained expression after the vial was emptied.

Arilyn moved to lay him back down, but he held up a shaking hand and clasped on to her tunic and so she moved to sit on the edge of the bed and leaned his head against her shoulder. Danilo shook and gasped for several minutes before the potion began to take effect. Finally, some of the tension in his muscles disappeared and his breathing slowed. Yet he seemed content to remain where he was.

"Is it helping?" Arilyn asked him.

Danilo nodded slowly and carefully.

"Arilyn?"

"What is it?"

"No one's ever..."

"Ever what?" And as she asked, Arilyn looked down to Danilo, only to find him soundly asleep once again.

There was the sound of a clearing throat at the door of the room, causing Arilyn to start. She looked up in surprise to find Myrin standing there with a look of guilt upon his face, as though he had interrupted something rather more private.

"I am sorry, _quex etriel_. Did I come at a bad time?" the innkeeper asked.

"Fever dreams," Arilyn explained, gently setting Danilo back down upon his pillow and replacing his blankets. "He's remembering the Time of Troubles, I think."

"Are you certain it isn't a ploy to be held by an attractive young lady?" Myrin asked as he crossed the room. "That would be just like him, you know."

"He's not like that," Arilyn affirmed.

"You're singing his praises, now? I thought he annoyed you." When he received no response to this, Myrin continued with more relevant conversation. He pulled from a small leather pouch three small vials which he handed to Arilyn. "I managed to obtain three more potions," he said, "not as potent as the first two, but they will help."

"Danilo doesn't need more potions," Arilyn said in frustration, "he needs a Cleric. Where on Toril has Bran disappeared to?"

"I don't know," Myrin admitted, "the only Clerics in the area that I know of are in Evereska. And Bran Skorlsun is not welcome there."

"Then someone will have to go to Evereska," said Arilyn, suddenly coming to her feet. She strode across the room with purpose, set down the three potions, and picked up her Moonblade, strapping it to her belt. "Myrin, I need you to watch over Danilo while I'm gone."

The innkeeper nodded. "I will do this. But how will you convince any of the Elven clerics in Evereska to come for a Human?"

"I have several ways," she said, "if they will not come for me, they will come for Khelben Arunsun. If asked directly for help, they would think twice before allowing the apprentice of the Blackstaff to simply die."

"Especially since he helped to defend Evermeet?"

Arilyn stopped in her tracks on her way out the door. She looked back at Myrin with surprise.

"I know far more about what happened than you think," he said, "but that is unimportant. Your grey mare is still stabled where you left her last night. Go and find the Cleric this young man so desperately needs."

* * *

Arilyn rode her mare as hard as she dared. The horse even seemed to understand that there was urgency in the ride as her ears pressed back and she seemed to gallop without tiring even though she was panting deeply. Arilyn whispered repeatedly to the mare promises of extra oats and even a carrot and sugar cube or two and thanked her for her efforts.

She reached Evereska by mid afternoon and tore through the elegant and serene streets, making for the temple of Hanali Celanil. Speaking quickly to the old sun elf head cleric there, she outlined the situation with such fervor that the cleric was moved to say he would help if only to have her stop panicking on his doorstep. Mention of Danilo's connections to the Archmage of Waterdeep only quickened the cleric's own pace.

The old sun elf, however, needed time to make preparations. He bid Arilyn to see to her horse and return in two hour's time.

Taking care of her mare, seeing that she was fed and watered and rubbed down, took the better part of a half hour. But after that, Arilyn was left with little to do but wander the streets of Evereska. Not far from the temple, she found the gardens that were so lovingly maintained by the Elves of the city. Splashes of color dotted the expanse of green, bright blossoms heralding the new seeds that were to follow. When a breeze passed, some of the blossoms chimed out a gentle song. Arilyn's Elven soul sang in reply, reaching out to this sign of the People's connection to the earth. She had not had a chance to be as an Elf for too long.

That thought brought Arilyn to a sudden halt in her wandering. She stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of one of the garden paths, wondering why it was that she hadn't stayed in Evereska following Kymil's arrest. Before she had met Danilo in the Halfway Inn, she had wanted nothing less than to return. Yet, when the crisis was ended, following Danilo and Bran back to Halfway Inn seemed as natural to her as breathing. She hadn't given it a thought.

Arilyn found a nearby bench and sat for a moment, studying a nearby vine of chime flowers. A breeze blew and the blossoms rang out another song. She was almost convinced that it was her imagination, but she could have sworn that they chimed the familiar riff of Danilo's thrice-be-damned Ballad of the Marsh of Chelimber.

It was at that moment that she realized that she wanted to hear Danilo sing again.

* * *

The old sun elf cleric, Anorin, turned out to be a surprisingly good rider. This relieved Arilyn a little since it meant that she could ride back to Halfway Inn with him in tow nearly as fast as she had ridden to Evereska alone. Still, when they reached the stables, it was well into the night. Arilyn left her mare and Anorin's black gelding in the care of the stable boy, tossing instructions over her shoulder to give both horses each an apple and two carrots.

Arilyn took the stairs inside the inn two at a time in her haste, only slowing at the top when she was forced to wait for Anorin's slower pace. When he had caught up, she made straight for Danilo's room and burst through the door.

Myrin and Bran were both in the room and the innkeeper came to his feet, having been sitting in the chair that Arilyn had vacated earlier that day to go to Evereska. The moon elf and the ranger both looked to Arilyn's entrance with surprise and it did not go unnoticed by the half-elf that Bran's hand twitched toward his sword. Arilyn's own hand jumped in response, but the reflex passed as soon as Bran relaxed.

"Arilyn!" Bran exclaimed. "By the goddess, don't startle me like that!"

"How is he?" Arilyn asked, brushing past both Bran and Myrin to reclaim her place in the wooden chair next to Danilo. The would-be bard was laying on his bed, pale as a lich and still as a stone. He did not even react when she put a hand to his forehead to feel of his fever.

"Not good, I'm afraid," Myrin answered, "he has fallen into a deep sleep. Nothing we do can wake him. We could not even get him to drink the last of the anti-poison potions."

Arilyn's hand strayed to one of Danilo's. It found instead something harsh and uneven circling his wrists. She knew what it was before she looked, but she looked anyway as if disbelieving what she knew it to be. She leaped to her feet and spun on Bran, reaching for his tunic in fury.

"Why are his hands tied?" she demanded.

"Arilyn-"

"What did you do?"

"_Quex etriel_," Myrin broke in, using as calm and reasonable a tone as he could muster. Arilyn redirected her angry glare to the innkeeper, but the moon elf merely pointed to the far wall.

The wood there was blackened in a large patch.

Somewhat bewildered, Arilyn let go of Bran. "What... what happened?"

"A lightning bolt," Bran answered, "before he fell into his sleep, he was delirious, seeing things. He must have seen something terrible because he decided that he needed to attack it. After that, we decided that we needed to make sure he wouldn't do it again, both so that he wouldn't waste what energy he had left and so he wouldn't cast anything in our directions."

"He is quite far along, then," Anorin chimed up from his place near the door. He drifted across the room toward the unconscious Danilo, gently displacing Arilyn from her post. His long fingers began to work at the rope around Danilo's wrists. "I must begin by seeing this magical brand," he said, "for that, I will need to untie his hands. If he is as deeply asleep as you say, we need not worry about him casting any spells. But, all the same, if all of you would keep a wary eye out, please."

"There wasn't a cleric anywhere between here and the Forgotten Forest, but you managed to find one," Bran said to Arilyn, "thank Mielikki."

"Hanali Celanil, actually," Anorin said absently as he finally got a look at the magic brand in Danilo's left palm. He made a sound as if pondering what it might be, then reached into a pocket and pulled out an owl feather and a pearl. "I'll need a goblet of wine, if you please," he said.

Myrin produced the requested drink from places unknown and placed the cup in Anorin's hand. By then, the old cleric had taken out and mortar and pestle and had crushed the pearl. This he dumped into the goblet of wine and finally he stirred the mixture with the owl feather, chanting a few arcane words over it. Then, he drank and looked again to Danilo's branded hand.

"I had surmised this would need a simple remove curse spell," said the cleric, "but this is far more complicated. This magic was devised by a Circle Singer, I'm afraid."

Arilyn's heart jumped up into her throat as she heard the grim note in Anorin's voice. "Can you counteract it?" she asked, almost sounding as if she dreaded the answer.

"I believe I can," said Anorin, but his tone never lightened, "I am privy to an ancient form of magic particular to the High Elves known as Spell Song. It should be strong enough to remove the curse Kymil Nimesin placed on this young one." He turned back to the assembled group and leveled an even more serious gaze at them. "Know this. This magic is not for any of you to see or use. You will have to leave while I cast the spell. And you must never speak of it to anyone."

Arilyn was positively incensed. "You want me to simply leave the room while Danilo is-"

"Arilyn," Bran interrupted her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder, "Danilo does not have time for you to argue with this elf. Let him do what he came to do."

"But-"

"Your father is correct," Myrin agreed, placing a gentle hand on Arilyn's other shoulder. "Come. We will wait in the common room."

Slowly, innkeeper and ranger ushered Arilyn from the room, even as she cast an uncertain glance back over her shoulder. As Anorin closed the door behind them, the last thing Arilyn saw was Danilo's fevered face.

* * *

Danilo was so deeply asleep that he did not dream. Instead, he floated in blackness, just out of reach of the one thing that gave him any sense of direction, a faint, thin strand of glittering silver drifting before him. At times, he almost felt as though he could reach out and touch it. But whenever he tried, the strand would lurch out of his reach as if a breeze had pushed it.

At length, he realized that the breeze was coming from his own hand, his left. Something red and malignant wafted from it, swirling around him before dissolving off into the blackness. Slowly, as he still tried to reach for the strand of silver, the red began to spread. Soon, it covered his entire arm, his chest, his legs. Now, only his head was free of the menacing glow. Danilo's body had become useless and the strand of silver faded even more.

And then, there was something new in the blackness, fading into sight like a rising sun. A strand of gold began to reach out toward him, fighting against the red that surrounded him. As it came closer, Danilo though he heard the sound of song, low and steady and graceful. As the song reached high, strong notes, the gold surged forward, pushing back the red as it advanced.

Though he was convinced for some reason that he knew the silver and the red, Danilo did not know where the gold was coming from. But somehow he felt the need to reach for it the way a drowning man reaches for anything that floats. As he reached out his hand, the song changed somewhat, becoming louder and brighter. The red pushed back against it, but the gold would not be moved. Slowly and steadily, it continued toward Danilo, its song growing louder by the moment until it had reached an almost deafening tone.

At last, Danilo reached it with his hand. The song hit a roaring crescendo, shattering the red and sending it spinning off into the darkness.

And all at once, the gold was gone and the song was no more than a fading echo. Danilo was alone in the blackness again with only the faint, far off strand of silver. It no longer moved away from him when he reached for it, but it was still out of his reach. Desperately, he began the long journey toward it through the lonely blackness.

* * *

Arilyn was utterly spent. She sat in silence at a table in the common room of the Halfway Inn, staring at the flame of a candle, just as she had since Myrin and Bran had sat her there some time ago. She did not even know how long she had sat there, nor did she care. Whenever she allowed herself to think, all that came to mind were thoughts of the past tenday and an odd realization that everything that mattered was being determined in one small room upstairs.

The Moonblade lay across her lap and her fingertips absently traced the eight runes along the blade and circled the smooth shape of the moonstone in the hilt. She had learned more about it in the past tenday than she had ever known about it. And every step of the way there had been a foppishly-dressed human was delusions of grandeur learning these things with her.

No, not a fool. He was not a fool. He was a wise and caring soul who refused to let her walk alone.

Suddenly, Arilyn was aware of something wet on her cheeks and a sob escaping her throat.

A gentle hand was on her shoulder a moment later and somewhere behind her, Bran spoke in a voice softer than she had ever heard him use. "Arilyn, you are tired," he said, "you have not slept since the battle with Kymil Nimesin."

Hastily, Arilyn bushed the tears from her cheeks and shook herself back to some semblance of composure. "That battle is not yet over," she said.

"But it is no longer in your hands," Bran replied, taking the seat next to her, "it is up to Anorin, now."

"And Danilo."

"Of course. And Danilo as well. But the cleric could be working his magic for hours. You should get some rest."

"I will not abandon him in this," Arilyn said softly, "not when he did not abandon me. Strange, isn't it? I've been alone for so long, I had come to think that was simply my path. And I acted on that. And then, here he comes, and he simply refuses to leave. Just like that; refuses. No matter what I did, he just stayed with me. And now, because of it, he's dying."

One of Bran's hands appeared in front of her, reaching for her chin gently. The old Harper softly turned her gaze away from the candle flame to look at him. With a look of sadness, he reached up and brushed away a tear that was forming in her eye, then put his weathered hand against her cheek.

"I am sorry for that," he said at length, "not a moment has gone by since we met in Waterdeep that I did not wish things had been different. I suppose it is my fault for falling in love with Amnestria and allowing her to fall in love with me. I knew it could only end in sadness. But never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine it would lead us all to such bitter loneliness. But know one thing, Arilyn. Years ago, when I first learned that I had a daughter, I have always been proud that she existed. You were my victory over those who wanted to punish me for my love of your mother."

For whatever reason, Arilyn found that her own hand had moved up to cover Bran's. Somehow, it seemed right.

"Please forgive me for all that I have done," the old ranger said with deep regret, "please don't take my victory from me."

Arilyn could not speak. Instead, she simply shook her head and grasped Bran's hand tighter.

It was then that footsteps made their presence known on the stairs. Startled, Arilyn and Bran turned to see Anorin step from the last stair to the floor. As they both came to their feet, Myrin, too, melted out of where ever it was that he had disappeared to. All three looked askance at the venerable old elf.

"I was able to remove the curse," Anorin finally announced which let loose a round of held breaths. "The boy will no longer be attacked by new poison from the brand."

"I sense that there is more, however," Myrin observed.

A spark of uncertainty came to the cleric's eyes, but his gaze never wavered. "There is," he said at length, "I am unable to cure the poison already in his body. My magic is spent for the day."

"What does that mean?" Arilyn asked, disbelieving what Anorin was implying.

"It means, child, that there is no more I can do for your friend."

The statement hung in the air for several silent moments, as if a death sentence had been handed down. And indeed, hadn't it?

"Myrin, are there any potions left?" Bran asked in dread.

"There are not," replied the innkeeper, "we used the last one hours ago."

"So, that is all?" Arilyn asked in frightful fury, looking from face to face in an effort to find hope. "There is nothing more to be done? We simply give up on him?"

"Not all poisons are fatal all the time," Anorin stated calmly, "there is a chance his body will fight it off on its own."

"A chance?"

"It is, regrettably, a very small one."

Once again, Arilyn looked about from ranger, to innkeeper, to cleric, looking for some sign that they had not given up. But when all was said and done, she found that the only place where it still lied was with her.

"I will not accept that," she said, "he is not going to die." With no further words, she brushed past Anorin and went up to Danilo's room. Closing the door behind her, she strode swiftly across the room and took up her place in the wooden chair next to his bed.

"Danilo, I do not care that you are unconscious," she said, "you will listen. I was but a child when I drew the Moonblade. I knew nothing of its history, nothing of the honor it gave me when it accepted me as its wielder. That did not change for a very long time. But of one thing I had always been certain; that the Moonblade was meant for one who walked alone. But in this past tenday, I have come to see that it was meant for one who only thought themselves alone." Slowly and reverently, she drew forth the Moonblade and laid it in her lap. Her fingers traced the shape of Zoastria's rune. "The power of Elfshadow that Zoastria gave to the blade was born of a time of pure loneliness, it was born to fill a gaping hole in her soul. And the power my mother gave to the blade," here her fingers strayed to that rune. "Elfgate. It, too, was made to fill a void in her soul."

Absently, without even realizing she was doing it, Arilyn's hand began to run back and forth over the moonstone that now sat in the hilt of the blade. "Something within me has changed. The Moonblade is whole again and I feel as though I am whole for the first time. I am no longer just a half-elf. I am a person.

"I still don't know everything about the Moonblade, but I know a great deal more about it, now. And I just wonder, is it possible that the Moonblade has a power that no one gave it? Is it possible that the Moonblade can mend a broken soul? I must know this, for if any soul is in need of mending, it is mine. But I do not believe I can do it alone. And, strange as it may seem, you are the only one I care to ask for help."

The Moonblade began to tingle in her hands. Somehow, she knew what was happening. And, even more incredibly, she found that she could shape it. So she took the blade in both hands and held it up in front of her.

"So, I need your help, Danilo. I add my own power to the Moonblade, as is my right and my duty. It is a power made to complete the wielder; made to complete me. I give to you a share of its power, to help you and protect you when it is needed. No longer will this be the blade of one who walks alone."

As she spoke these words, a new rune came forth upon the blade of the ancient sword, sitting next to her mother's and glowing a faint blue and arcane light. Arilyn could not read it and so she did not know what name to give to this new power. But that had no bearing on its effect. Silently, and with the Moonblade now giving a faint hum somewhat akin to the warning hum, but somehow less threatening, she placed the hilt of the Moonblade in Danilo's burned hands.

"And now, I need something from you," Arilyn continued a moment later, "and that is, quite simply, for you to live. You cannot die. You have refused to leave me thus far. I cannot believe that you will leave me now. So, I will wait here until you awaken. And if you do not, I will be forced to walk alone again, and I will once again be just a half-elf. You have proven loyal. Do not betray me now."

She said nothing else that night. She simply sat there, waiting and watching. She held her own hands on the hilt of the Moonblade, covering Danilo's for hours on end. But eventually, practicality won out and she was forced to sheath the ancient weapon and give her tired hands some rest. The rest of her body ached to follow, but she would not allow it.

Even as she waited, Selûne sank low and disappeared beneath the horizon. The Dawn Heralds and the sun followed her, slowly climbing into the sky as the hours passed. Still Arilyn waited, never leaving the small wooden chair, never lifting her gaze to other things as if to do so would be to allow the steady and shallow rise and fall of Danilo's chest to stop.

And then, when the sun was midway through her trip back down toward the horizon, Danilo gave a shiver and took a deep breath. Arilyn, teetering on the brink of sleep despite all her efforts, leaned forward and took one of Danilo's hands.

"Danilo," she called softly, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles, "wake up, Danilo. Come on."

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Danilo's grey eyes drifted open enough to focus on her. His mouth moved to speak, but little more than a strangled whisper emerged. Arilyn reached for the carafe of water and the cup that Myrin had left there nearly a day ago. With one hand, she held Danilo's head up and with the other she held the cup to his mouth. He took to it quickly, greedily sucking down mouthfuls of the water.

"Careful," Arilyn cautioned him, "just a few sips at a time." At length, Danilo emptied the cup and Arilyn set it aside in favor of resting her hand on his forehead. "Oh, thank Hanali Celanil, the fever is breaking."

"Arilyn?"

"I'm right here," she reassured him.

"You are a sight more beautiful to see than Sune herself," Danilo said hoarsely, evoking the Faerûnian goddess of beauty, "how long has it been?"

"More than a day," Arilyn replied.

"Good heavens," Danilo said, "that would explain it, then. My stomach feels as though it is eating itself for its dinner."

Arilyn allowed herself a small chuckle at that. "If you can sit up, I'll have Myrin bring something light."

"Perhaps, with some help," Danilo allowed, pushing up as best as he could with his trembling arms. With some work, Arilyn helped him to lay up against the headboard of the bed amidst the pillows. She was busily rearranging the blankets, without saying a word, when Danilo reached out with a hand to pause her. Gently, he turned her face to his gaze. "What's this, then?" he asked, brushing a tear away from her cheek with the back of his hand.

Arilyn looked at him but said nothing. For but a few moments that felt like hours, they both stared at each other. Another tear tumbled from Arilyn's eye. She could not stop it.

"Oh, Arilyn," Danilo said with apologetic realization, "you have not even slept, for this whole time, have you? I can't have worried you so much."

"You almost died."

"None of that now, my dear," Danilo said, putting a finger over her mouth, "such blatant worry is not like you. Besides, there is no need for it. I will not be going anywhere for some time. Go and rest and stop fussing like a mother hen. It doesn't suit you at all. Imagine a mother hen with a magical elven sword!"

Despite everything, Arilyn found another laugh escaping her at the thought Danilo had managed to conjure up. She grasped his hand in her own and pulled it from the side of her face.

"For once, you are right," she said, "perhaps I will go and rest. But only after I've told Myrin to bring you something to eat. You need to recover your strength."

"Well, my stomach would not argue that point with you, that is for certain. So it would seem that I am outnumbered."

"For once you're being reasonable," Arilyn tossed over her shoulder as she crossed the room and went to the door.

Danilo leaned back into his pillows and watched her go. "You really are beautiful, you know."

"Don't think for a moment that flattery will get you anywhere."

Danilo gave a loud, exaggerated sigh. "Well, it was worth a try, anyway."

_End Episode One_

* * *

Okay, so that went beyond saccharine. My apologies. The next one won't make you reach for the insulin syringe, I promise.

If you didn't catch the inconsistency I attempted to explain, here it is. In Elfshadow, the book ends with Danilo's hands still burned from bringing the Moonblade to Arilyn. Yet, in Elfsong, there is mention that a cleric in Evereska had healed his hands using Spell Song and that it was the first time Danilo had ever seen its use. Anorin's use of Spell Song to remove the Harper Assassin's brand was my attempt at an explanation for this.

Finally, here's a preview for the episode two.

_Episode Two: Code Duello_  
_Set just after Elfshadow. Arilyn follows through on her promise to return to Waterdeep with Danilo and explain his actions to his family. But when she runs afoul of a member of Waterdahavian nobility, it's up to Danilo to defend her honor... with the Moonblade!_

Sweet water and light laughter to you, until next we meet.   
Berz.


	2. Code Duello

The Adventures of the Blade and the Ballad 

Episode Two: Code Duello

By Berzerkerprime

Summary: Set just after Elfshadow. Arilyn follows through on her promise to return to Waterdeep with Danilo and explain his actions to his family. But when she runs afoul of a member of Waterdahavian nobility, it's up to Danilo to defend her honor... with the Moonblade!

Notes for Episode Two: Whoa! You mean you actually stuck around for the second episode after that sugar rush of a first one? You must either be as much of a hopeless romantic as I am or someone I would beg mercilessly if they didn't read this. Either way, thanks for sticking around!

This is the first of a few chapters that are set in that three year period between Elfshadow and The Bargain and that explore Arilyn and Danilo getting to understand each other. This particular chapter was written to study something which I was very disappointed we never got to see; Danilo using the Moonblade. I mean, c'mon! A three year long blank in the story line! It had to happen at some point, right? It was also born out of some thoughts I had on what a dueling culture might be like in Waterdeep (and special thanks go out to the folks at the WotC boards and Candlekeep for finding source material on the topic!).

Enjoy! Sweet water to you!

* * *

"Ah, home sweet metropolis!" Danilo exclaimed as his horse topped the last hill that their road sprawled over. He looked down toward the bay-side City of Splendors with an admiring smile. The sun was about half way up in the western sky and it glittered off the waves of the sea beyond the city. "Song-filled taverns, shops filled with magic, and barrels of Rivengut shipped in daily!"

"Yeah," agreed Arilyn, riding her grey mare a length behind him, "also debauchery-infested festhalls, mansions filled with pompous nobility, and vials of poison _used_ daily."

"Was that parallel structure I heard from you?" Danilo asked. "I say, there seems to be a touch of the bard in you as well, my dear! Excellent satire!"

"And there seems to be a touch of the dead man in you. Excellent obliviousness!"

"And she continues! I do believe I am in love!"

"Don't make me regret coming back here with you," Arilyn said with warning, urging her horse onward.

"The thought had never entered my mind," answered Danilo, bringing his gelding into step along side her grey mare, "in fact, now that our lives are not in utter peril, I intend to show you only the best of times in Waterdeep. For instance, I know a wonderful tavern in the Castle Ward that you'll simply love! The Elfstone. Run by Elves, you know."

"That's your idea of a good time?" Arilyn asked with skepticism. "The most renowned fool of Waterdeep walks into an elven tavern with a half-elf?"

"I do believe I've heard that one! Yes, I even remember the punch-line! And the tavern-keeper says 'but, good sir, it's cloudy! There are no stars!"

Arilyn leveled a steely gaze at him, her blue eyes blazing.

"Or was it 'twenty gold, same as in Cormanthor'?"

Arilyn's glare deepened.

"Oh, come now! Not even a smile?" Danilo finally relented and gave a long drawn out sigh. "All right, if you're really so determined to be unhappy, I suppose there's nothing I can do about it. But tell me, Arilyn, if this is such a chore for you, why did you accompany me back to Waterdeep?"

Arilyn brought her horse to an abrupt halt and looked at Danilo, her expression of ire now replaced by one of utter confusion. Surprised by the stop, Danilo continued to ride on for a few lengths before turning back to look at her. A stand of trees was behind her and a breeze rustled through their branches and blew toward them. A few moments later, Danilo heard it whistle off the city walls that were behind him, distant but imposing.

"You don't want me to tell your family what you did for me, do you?" Arilyn asked, finally breaking the silence that hung between them.

For a moment, the façade that Danilo kept up even around those who truly knew him slipped. Arilyn actually saw him chew on his bottom lip for an instant and swallow hard before making an attempt to place his mask firmly back in place. But somehow he knew he wasn't entirely successful, so he turned his horse toward the city and nudged it into motion.

"Danilo!" Arilyn exclaimed, getting back underway herself. She came up along side him again. "You don't even want your family to know that you're not a fool?"

"We've been through this."

"But I still don't understand."

"People go to great lengths to ignore fools. I am invisible in plain sight. I will be far more effective as a Harper if I maintain-"

"Oh please! You have been giving me that answer this entire trip."

"I have no other answer to give you, my dear," said Danilo, an odd smile now coming to his face, "I don't know why you would think otherwise. Very well, if you don't wish to go to the Elfstone, how about the Dripping Dagger?" His end of the conversation, it seemed, was over. Instead, he chatted on about inane gossip of Waterdeep in a decidedly one-sided exchange as Arilyn rode along behind him in mystified silence.

They were able to pass though the gate with little fanfare thanks in part to the Thann family crest that Danilo rather conveniently shifted into view as they approached. The watch at the gate gave Arilyn a few leering looks, casting their gaze between her and the foppish noble riding ahead of her. Not wishing to dwell on what they were most likely thinking, she avoided their gaze and swiftly rode in after Danilo.

In the crowded and noisy streets that were Waterdeep, Arilyn would much have preferred to stable their horses somewhere and walk through the city. Her grey mare's ears pressed forward at the sights and sounds and smells that were suddenly washing over them. Arilyn sympathized with the horse. Her nerves were just as on-edge, just as frayed.

"So, where shall we to first, my dear?" Danilo asked as they both rode at a cantor across the square that butted up against the gate. "A drink perhaps? Or we could always find you that dress that you really should have if-"

"No."

"It was only a thought."

"I think our first stop had better be Blackstaff Tower."

"Are you certain you don't want that drink, first?"

Arilyn nudged her mare forward. It let out a nervous neigh and trudged up closer to Danilo's gelding. Arilyn lowered her voice and leaned closer to Danilo. "Considering what appeared in his tower a few days ago, I think we owe Khelben an explanation, don't you?"

"Certainly," Danilo replied, cheerfully, "but sober?"

"By the goddess, you've devolved to a twelve-year-old!"

"There are certain parts of me that disagree with you, completely."

Arilyn's mouth fell open. Danilo grinned.

* * *

"It would have killed you to give some warning?"

Blackstaff Tower was not what you would call a friendly place. In point of fact, the forbidding aura maintained by its chief inhabitant made the Archmage's home downright uninviting. The place had given Danilo the chills as a child. They were most certainly lessened now, but they were also still there, playing up and down the tips of Danilo's spine like gentle yet unskilled fingers plucking harp strings. The voice of the one who had just spoken from behind his bowl of oatmeal and goblet filled with water, however, had the effect of a hammer on those harp strings.

Danilo chose to take it in stride.

"Hello, uncle! So good to see you as well! Yes, everything went fine. Kymil Nemsin has been thwarted and all that. Portal moved. I'm perfectly fine, by the way, after trying to cast the rather high level spell it required, thank you for asking. How has the weather been?" All this came out in a tirade as Danilo planted himself in the nearest chair across the dining table from the Blackstaff.

Khelben stared Danilo down, pushing aside his bland meal and narrowing his hawk-like eyes at the younger wizard. Slowly, he stood and squared his shoulders, all the better to look down at Danilo as if that would make any difference in the younger man's attitude.

"Fifteen fully armed soldiers of Evermeet came storming through Laeral's chamber and into the tower," said Khelben, slowly pacing his way around the table to stop and tower over the sitting Danilo, "demanding to know what I had to do with the sudden appearance of the body of – nay, _half_ the body of a young gold elven circle singer on their island. And in the garden of the Moonstone Palace at Leuthilspar, no less!"

"I imagine it took the chamberlain a few days to right the mess," Danilo replied.

Arilyn, meanwhile, was staying as far from the exchange as she politely could. She stood just to the side of the door to the dining chamber, watching the exchange with a small lump in her throat. The two scions of Arun generated considerable friction between them and Arilyn had no desire to find herself in the middle. For whatever reason, her hand drifted to the hilt of her sword and with a start she realized that she already was in the middle of it, like it or not. With an inward sigh, she silently drifted closer to Danilo as Khelben continued.

"Four," he said, deflecting Danilo's wisecrack back at him as a scolding, "there was little I could tell them except that my nephew had, apparently, brought the Moonblade to the very person we had been trying to keep it from."

Danilo finally let his indolent façade drop and he rose to look Khelben in the eye. "You told me to move the Elfgate somewhere safe. Your own sister cannot enter Blackstaff tower without your blessing. I had to think quickly and this is what I thought of. If you had wanted the Elfgate moved somewhere in particular-"

"Enough," Khelben said, turning away with a wave of his hand, "Evermeet is satisfied with the security of the Elfgate. They are not, however, satisfied with the considerable risk you took in securing it."

"I have no reason to explain to you my decision to take the Moonblade to Arilyn," Danilo said, somewhat darkly.

"No?"

"No. It was a needless sacrifice and I refused to make it. _Some_ of us had faith in Arilyn's abilities."

Khelben had paced toward the far wall and now turned back to face the two of them, leveling his gaze once more directly at Danilo. "And yet little faith in your own."

Arilyn suddenly felt the air get tense. Almost imperceptibly, Danilo's hands tightened as if holding back a spell that the rest of him wanted very much to cast. Or perhaps Danilo just wanted to hit the archmage. In any case, for what was apparently the first time, Danilo did not back down from Khelben. For his part, Khelben looked rather surprised at the sudden presence of steel in Danilo's eyes. For the Blackstaff, this was less a battle and more a study in his nephew's demeanor.

With a start, Arilyn noticed that neither man had said anything for some time and that she herself had been staring at the exchange in stupefied silence. "Archmage, if I could just tell you what happened-"

"This isn't about me," Danilo said to Khelben as if he hadn't heard Arilyn begin.

"It most certainly is about you," Khelben shot back, "if you are going to wear the Harper pin, you must be prepared for all the responsibilities that go with it. That will mean sacrifices and you-"

"Which are you more upset about, uncle; that I wear the Harper pin or that you did not get to give it to me along with the lecture you no doubt had prepared?"

"I see that Bran Skorlsun did not impress upon you that the Harpers are a force for good in Faerûn, but not a force for chaos."

"It seems to me that if the Harpers are to be a force for good in Faerûn that they should start by being good people themselves."

"That is a naïve statement if ever I-"

"Hey!" Arilyn shouted into the growing argument. "Enough is enough already! You two can be as pissed at each other about me as you want. But it seems to me that the one who has the most right to be pissed about everything that happened is me. At you," she said, looking at Danilo, "for deceiving me. And at you," she said, turning to Khelben, "for sending him in the first place. So if you're both quite done being indignant, we can start conversing like civilized people and sort out all that happened in Evereska."

"There's no need, my dear," said Danilo sourly, still not taking his eyes off Khelben, "he already knows all about it." And with that, Danilo turned and left the dining hall.

Khelben watched him go, then swept back to the table and took back his seat in front of his meal in a manner that reminded Arilyn very much of a pouting child. The archmage picked up his utensils and began to eat once more.

"Wizards," Arilyn muttered, heading for the door herself.

"Arilyn Moonblade," Khelben's voice stopped her just as she was to cross the threshold. She stopped in her tracks and looked back to him. "Twilight Hall has informed me that Bran Skorlsun has submitted your name for induction into the roll of the Harpers. You have been a great help to us up to now and I have no doubt that you will surpass your father's expectations."

For a moment, Arilyn pondered asking him if he was complimenting her or insulting Bran Skorlsun. But she ultimately decided against it. "Thank you," she said instead, then continued on her way out the door.

She finally caught up with Danilo outside the tower proper, in the antechamber of the tower's entrance. He continued on his way through the door, even as she jogged up to his side. He was muttering something under his breath which Arilyn couldn't quite make out, even with her Elven hearing.

And then, as they exited the tower and came out into the daylight, Danilo came to a sudden halt and thrust his hand to one side. A quick set of arcane words tumbled from his mouth and a bolt of light shot out from his outstretched hand, striking a barrel sitting next to the doorway. The barrel splintered apart into pieces and came to the ground smoking.

"Danilo!" Arilyn exclaimed. She hesitated a moment, then gently put a hand on his wrist and slowly lowered it.

"That was careless," Danilo said around a sigh as she did so, "one should never cast spells, even one as simple as a _magic missile_, when one is angry. It leads to mistakes and miscasts."

"I think," said Arilyn carefully, "I could use that drink after all."

All at once, the steel that had come to Danilo's eyes was tossed aside and replaced with the foppish grin with which Arilyn had become all too familiar. He flashed it at her all too readily while he took her left arm in his right.

"Now we are speaking the same language, my dear," he said, "if you will allow me to escort you?"

Arilyn briefly touched her free hand to the hilt of her Moonblade, resting on her left hip where it was liable to come between them in a most inconvenient way. Instinctively she moved to keep it away from Danilo's touch. "Wouldn't the other side be better?"

Danilo waggled a finger in the air, then touched it to the moonstone resting in the hilt, a simple reminder that her instincts were unnecessary in this case. "A lady on the left is no lady at all. Ladies always right. That does not mean that men are wrong, of course. It simply means we're gauche."

* * *

Danilo did not take Arilyn straight to a festhall or a tavern. Instead he brought her to his row house near the boarder between Castle Ward and Trade Ward, insisting that they both had to wash the stink of their horses and the dirt of the road off before they ventured into polite company. So Arilyn found herself soaking in a warm bath in a small room in short order. She wasn't sure why the rose petals were necessary – in point of fact, she noted that Danilo did not order them for his own bath – but had to admit that it was a pleasant change from her usual bathing.

Arilyn settled back into the warm water, allowing it to cover her up to her neck. She hadn't been this content since before her mother had passed all those years ago. She had been to Waterdeep numerous times before, and always she had felt as if she needed to watch her back. But somehow, this time was different. It didn't take a diviner to tell that Danilo was rather obviously infatuated with her, but for some reason Arilyn didn't particularly mind it. One day, perhaps, he would get over it and they would both have a good laugh about it before they were sent on another of Khelben's Harper missions. It would be something they could laugh and snicker about throughout their partnership and...

Strange. When had she begun to think of Danilo as her partner?

Just then, as that rather interesting thought entered into her head, a soft melody began to be plucked out on a lute somewhere in another part of the row house. Almost immediately, her mind conjured up the sound of the chiming flowers in the gardens of Evereska. As the pace of the music quickened and slowed, Arilyn could almost feel the breezes as they ruffled the buds.

She was just beginning to think that the bathwater was getting a little tepid when a young female Halfling bustled into the room, carrying a towel and bundle of clothing.

"Are you enjoying your bath, miss?" she asked.

Shaking off the strange feeling of being called "miss," Arilyn straightened up somewhat. "Yes, thank you," she said, "what's all that?"

"These are from Master Danilo, miss," the Halfling replied, setting the bundle down on a chair, "there's a note with them, I believe."

"What about?"

"Oh, that's not any of my business, miss." The Halfling eyed Arilyn's Moonblade, resting against the wall next to the chair. "He said he would talk with you about himself right away, but that you might... er... not take too kindly to it."

Arilyn laughed. "What did he really say I might do?"

The Halfling shifted somewhat uncomfortably. "He said, miss... that you might... kill him with your little finger."

Arilyn laughed again, watching the Halfling shift uncomfortably again. "What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't, miss," the Halfling said, "but it's Yandle."

"Well, Yandle, I don't want you to get the wrong impression about me," said Arilyn, "I wouldn't kill Danilo with my little finger if he walked in on me in the bath."

"No, miss?"

"No. It would probably take a whole arm."

For a moment, Yandle didn't seem to be sure if she should laugh or not. The corner of her mouth curled up slightly, making it obvious that she wanted to, so Arilyn gave the best smile she could and allowed a bit of a chuckle to escape. Yandle took that as her signal and allowed herself a full giggle.

"That's very funny, miss."

"I thought so."

"Is there anything you need?"

"I don't think so."

Yandle indicated the pile of clothing sitting on the floor where Arilyn had discarded them before bathing. "Can I have these washed for you?"

"That would be wonderful. Thank you."

The Halfling gathered up Arilyn's road worn clothing and went to the door. "Thank you, miss," she said with a little courtesy as she closed the door.

Arilyn lingered in the bath water a little longer before deciding that it was just getting far too cold and that she should get out. She wrapped herself up in the towel, a warm sort of woolly cotton that relaxed her almost as much as the bath had. After taking a few moments to dry herself off, Arilyn turned to the bundle of clothing sitting on the chair. It was a light, almost opalescent blue and silky with some sort of blackwork trim in star and leaf patterns around the neck. With a roll of her eyes, Arilyn braced herself to be confronted with a lavish dress. But when she unfolded it, she found that it was only a tunic that would come to her knees. Another, darker piece of clothing fell out of the center and when she picked them up off the floor, she found them to be a pair of leggings.

The note that Yandle had mentioned was left on the chair at the bottom of the whole pile. Tentatively, Arilyn picked it up and unfolded it.

_I hope these will suffice for the moment. A matter has come up that requires my attention. Please find me in the parlor._

_ Danilo  
_

Arilyn couldn't help but be surprised. Danilo was not giving her a hard time about her attire, for a change. Setting aside the note, she donned the clothing. It was definitely nicer attire than she was used to, but it wasn't terribly lavish. After buckling on her belt and Moonblade, she took a cursory look at her reflection in the mirror nearby. She had to admit that the look was to her liking, and perhaps slightly more coordinated than she had ever bothered to be.

Lute music was still floating through the halls of the row house and Arilyn followed it all the way to the parlor on the ground floor. Perched on a settee, Danilo calmly plucked away at the strings of the instrument in another run-through of the tune he had been playing earlier. He paused over a measure, replaying it several times with slight variations to the final note. He narrowed it down to two variations and strummed through them both again before settling on the lower of the two final notes. He turned to a table where a small book and a quill was resting and made a note.

"One of yours, or are you ruining someone else's masterpiece?" Arilyn asked with a smirk, leaning against the door frame.

"Mine," Danilo said mildly as he finished up his note, "I've had reason to be inspired of late. And reason to be away from my instrument for far too long."

"You know, if you played that sort of music rather than those juvenile bawdy ballads of yours, you might actually be a successful bard."

Danilo set the lute aside with a sigh. "Perhaps some day," he said around a tight smile, "but not now. Am I to believe that you approve of the garb?"

"I'm just relieved it isn't a scantily clad gown," Arilyn replied.

Danilo leaned back, perching one hand on the corner of the settee, and looked up at her with a smirk. "Oh, don't believe for a second that I wasn't tempted."

"Yandle mentioned something about killing you with my little finger?"

"Oh, it's so hard to find tight-lipped help these days."

With a shake of her head and a smile, Arilyn entered the room and made for one of the chairs. She sat down in it, being sure to set the Moonblade in a position that it wouldn't damage the furniture or stick out in the path. "So what's this matter that requires your attention?"

Danilo reached for a small, folded piece of parchment that had been buried under his book and quill on the table. He handed it to Arilyn.

"Kerryn Belabranta is throwing a fête tonight," he said, "celebration of some deed of his griffin-taming ancestors. It's bound to be a party that his father, Lord Belabranta, highly disapproves of. I only found out about it when we arrived here."

"Let me guess," said Arilyn, "it would be bad form not to show up at the event of the week."

"Since I'm back in the city, yes," said Danilo.

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"I promised you an evening out. I know it's probably not your idea of a good time, but it might surprise you. And the invitation does say 'plus one.' So, what do you say? Care to be my plus one?"

"Me? At a ball thrown by Waterdhavian nobility?"

"A nice gown, a few quick dance lessons, you'd be the talk of the town."

"Right, me and my Elfshadow," said Arilyn, putting a hand to the hilt of her Moonblade, "I can't exactly leave this behind, you remember."

"Well, you wouldn't be the first to bring a sword to a ball," said Danilo.

"But I'd be the first to bring a Moonblade."

"Fair point. But I can all but guarantee that no one would lay an untoward hand on you."

Arilyn leveled her gaze at Danilo, pointing one finger directing at him.

"Well, almost no one." He flashed one of his trademark roguish grins at her and she continued to give him _that_ look. Finally Danilo's grin crumpled and he sighed. "I understand your apprehension, but it wouldn't be all that bad. Light music, a few dances, a bit of food and drink-"

"And you miscasting a cantrip or two."

"Well, I do have a reputation to maintain."

Arilyn got to her feet, rubbing her temples. She was feeling a slight headache coming on and wasn't sure if it was because she was tired from the day's travel or dreading what she was about to say. She rethought it a million times in the space of a single second. But when she looked back to Danilo, she found him looking up at her with a gaze that she just couldn't quite turn down, somewhere between wounded puppy and pleading kitten.

"Oh all right," she moaned out, defeated, "I'll go."

"Excellent!" Danilo exclaimed jumping to his feet. "Yandle!"

"Yes, Master Danilo?" the Halfling said, bustling into the room.

Danilo wandered over to a desk by the wall and rummaged around in a drawer for a moment before producing a small pouch that jingled. He handed it to Yandle. "Arilyn will be needing some suitable clothing for tonight. The theme is griffins. Meiroth's should have something that will suffice for a gown. Also stop by Rebeleigh's for a suitable circlet and Sulmest's for some slippers. We're short on time, so I'll trust to your eye for size and color."

Yandle inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Certainly, sir," she said before hurrying through the door.

"Uh... just... Nothing too frilly!" Arilyn called after the retreating Halfling. "Please?" she added when there was no response. A moment later, she heard the front door close with seeming finality.

When she turned back around to regard Danilo, she found him right next to her with a goofy smile. He took hold of her left hand and placed it in his right. "Now, then, shall we start with the Pavanne?"

"Oh, goddess," Arilyn whispered to the air.

* * *

The evening air was a comfortable cool as the carriage that Danilo had acquired for them bumped along the roads of Waterdeep, toward the Belabranta villa in Castle Ward. It came to a halt outside the villa and Dan swung the door open and climbed out. He was clad in a golden brown doublet with immaculate embroidery stylized to look like feathers, a brown shirt, loose dark pants, and high brown boots. He had finished out the outfit with a tricorn hat made of a brown felt to which had been fastened several golden and yellow feathers which he insisted were actual griffin feathers.

He took in the scene for a moment, hearing the sounds of revelry coming from inside Belabranta villa and seeing the well-dressed celebrants lining up at the gate to be announced, couple by couple. A number of them turned a wary eye toward him, eying him as if to ask what he was up to _this_ time. Dan chose one whose eyes he met and gave them a ginger wave and a foppish smile.

"Well, here we are," he said, stepping aside of the carriage door and offering a hand toward Arilyn, "come out, my dear, no one's going to bite... unless asked, of course, but that's a whole other untoward story."

With a sigh, Arilyn stood and took Danilo's proffered handHe. "Last I checked," she said, "griffins didn't come in silver."

The dress that Yandle had purchased for Arilyn had been just about the last one in the shops because of it's strange silver-blue color. Long bell sleeves and a gore in the back of the skirt had grey embroidery stitched into them to resemble feathers, giving her the affectation of wings and a feathered tail. The low neck and the waist were trimmed in black fur of a tone that just matched Arilyn's hair. Yandle had chosen also a silver circlet for Arilyn that came to a point at her forehead and had two small sapphires to either side, fashioned to resemble the face of a bird. Arilyn's Moonblade was also fastened to her waist, but surprisingly it didn't stick out as much as she feared it would.

"That's only a bit of artistic license," said Danilo, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, "it suits you quite well, I'd say."

"So, what's the first step in this dog-and-pony show?" she asked as they made their way toward the villa.

"Introductions," Danilo replied.

The revelers were chatting with one another amicably as they approached and Arilyn couldn't help but notice that their conversations all came to an abrupt stop, one by one. More than one of the revelers cast absent looks at her and Danilo, first dismissing Arilyn's presence as yet another pretty face on the arm of Danilo Thann, before taking a second, more intense and surprised look at her in particular. Clearly they were unhappy with the sight of a half-elf in their company; something Danilo had failed to warn her about. Danilo continued to babble about what was involved in the Belabranta ball as she observed their surroundings. From outside the villa, she could see only the one way in and out on the ground floor. There were windows on the second, of course, but in the getup she was wearing, they weren't going to be all that practical. There seemed to be a steady stream of servants to and from somewhere in the back, though, and she surmised that there was probably a servants' entrance there.

The next thing she knew, Danilo was tugging at her arm again. They were at the entrance to the villa and standing there was a herald wearing the colors of the Belabranta house and holding a scroll. Danilo told the herald their names and he checked for them on the scroll, then turned toward the massive, open ballroom within.

"Lord Danilo Thann escorting Mistress Arilyn Moonblade," the herald bellowed into the hall.

"Mistress?" Arilyn hissed out after they were a few strides away from the entrance and the herald.

"We are fond of titles, here," Danilo said by way of explanation, completely ignoring the rather irate tone she had used.

The hall was decorated to the nines for the fete. Marble floors, inlayed in various colors with geometric patterns that almost danced, were polished to a shine and reflected the silk tapestries that were hung from every ornate window. The crystal chandeliers and ornate iron sconces were all fully lit with light spells, modified to shift through an array of tastefully pale colors at random intervals. Garlands of flowers trailed in and out of windows and through the stone buttresses that held up the vaulted ceiling. Musicians at the head of the hall played a number of tunes, sometimes accompanied by voice, sometimes not. The nobility in the hall mixed and mingled with each other, an ever-shifting array of colors that mostly ranged from black to gold, invoking the colors of both common and uncommon griffins, though there were some stray blues, greens, and reds in representation as well. To one side of the hall, a massive board had been set, filled with cold meats, fruits, breads, and drinks. At its center, a massive subtlety of a griffin, constructed of a roast turkey, bread baked in the shape of legs and a tail, wings of glazed and roasted vegetable kebobs, and a mane of golden dandelions.

"Ah! There's Kerryn," said Danilo, pointing in the same general direction as the board. "Near the food, I might have known. I'll introduce you to our host." He then proceeded to lead Arilyn through the milling assemblage toward a small knot of nobles about his age, surrounding one in particular who seemed to be holding court, in a sense.

This, Arilyn surmised, was Kerryn Belabranta. When he spotted Danilo and Arilyn heading his way, he paused mid-sentence and pushed his way through the small group toward them.

"Danilo Thann!" he exclaimed, warmly, extending his hands in greeting. "Fashionably late, as always! So good to see you again!"

"Kerryn!" Danilo replied, snaking out of Arilyn's grasp and clasping Kerryn's hands in return. "It would appear that you have outdone yourself yet again."

"Well, if a party is worth throwing, it's worth overthrowing. Lady Hawk Cragsmere is already quite put out that I've outdone her fete from last month. But tell me, Dan; I had heard you were out of the city. I hadn't actually expected to see you. What have you been up to?"

"Oh, simply a little bit of travel on family business."

"Well, the rumor mill has certainly been grinding about you," Kerryn said, "one even had you back in the city a number of days ago with an unknown woman and then leaving again in more than a bit of a hurry."

"Yes, I'm afraid I found myself in a spot of trouble. Luckily, I had a rescuer. May the unknown woman be unknown no more. Kerryn Belabranta, may I introduce Arilyn Moonblade."

"Dear lady," said Kerryn, taking Arilyn's hand, "I'm not certain whether I should thank you for saving one of our chief sources of amusement or report you to the watch for aiding and abetting a public nuisance."

"Definitely, the latter," said Arilyn.

"Oh, you wound me, my dear!" Danilo said, a hand over his heart, sarcastically.

It was the first of many strange and uncomfortable conversations that Danilo navigated them through for the next couple hours. In the process of trying to pass the time in good spirits, Arilyn found herself in anything but. Instead, she and Danilo spent most of their time fielding questions about her sword and dodging inquisitions about Dan's time away from the city. Being grilled on a spit would have been more pleasant, Arilyn surmised, wondering how Danilo put up with it all the time. Between that and Danilo's "botched" magical performances, she found herself nearly biting her tongue not to lash out. She actually found herself looking forward to the inane dances he had taught her, since it meant a few moments away from the rest of the crowd.

At least, until the Centaurs Bransle. It was a dance that Danilo hadn't counted on seeing on the set list. It had, apparently, fallen out of favor somewhat in the past few months, owing to some incident that Danilo was reluctant to tell her about, so he hadn't taught it to her. Apparently, Kerryn had decided to bring it back, causing Danilo to take Arilyn aside to a private corner for a crash course in the steps. Luckily, the dance itself was simple enough. The problem was that it separated couples in favor of rotating through a number of short sessions with the other dancers; short sessions during which you had little else to do other than chat.

Eight couples, Arilyn and Danilo among them, gathered into a pair of concentric rings facing each other; lords on the outside and ladies on the inside. The opening reverence sounded and soon they were stepping back and forth, side to side in sets of two steps, the two circles moving together for a number of bars, following the music as if it was a set of spoken instructions.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Arilyn whispered to Dan.

"Nonsense, my dear!" Danilo replied. "This is one of the simplest bransles in existence. It's almost impossible to mess up the steps. At least, as long as you can count to two, which, between you and me..."

"That's not the part I'm worried about."

Danilo gave her a smile, but not one of his sarcastic, foolish ones that he gave everyone. She had seen him smile this way before, but never while using his mask persona. This smile was unequivocally genuine.

"My lady, you are fair and intelligent," he said with a flourish of his hand, "you cannot help but to blow them away."

The music changed key for a moment and the two circles stopped their back and forth motion. Danilo stomped a foot on the ground twice, stepped right once, then turned over his left shoulder. As he finished, a small white flower appeared in his hand, still glistening with the last remnant of a spell. He deftly placed it in her hair, just behind her ear. As the music repeated the last few measures, Arilyn repeated Danilo's steps, hearing a faint chiming from the blossom. When she finished her turn, she found herself facing another dancer and the music began again, back at the beginning, as the two circles began their sideways movement once more.

As she feared, small talk ensued. Luckily, the portions of the dance with each new dancer was short enough that there wasn't really enough time to move beyond the small talk. She had gotten though five dance partners without incident and was beginning the session with a sixth, starting to feel as if she might make it through the entire cycle without starting a feud between two or more noble houses.

This end of the circle, however, had tightened up in the process of the dancing. The two rings were nearer each other and the pairs were nearly shoulder to shoulder. Discreetly, Arilyn gathered up her skirts and latched on to the hilt of the Moonblade in their midst, hoping to better control it and keep it out of harm's way; or more to the point, keep the other dancers out of its way.

"Ah, Danilo Thann's new Elven lady," said her new partner. Alarms went off in Arilyn's mind as she detected a hint of venom in his voice. "Arilyn Moonblade was it?"

"It is," she answered, "and I am a half-elf."

"Lord Briorbrin Sultlue. I must say, how very bold of you to have come. On the arm of Lord Thann, that is."

"Is it?"

"Oh, yes. Danilo has quite the reputation for... _courting_ trouble."

"You don't say," Arilyn said flatly, finding herself more than a little put-off by Briorbrin's tone.

"Quite," he replied, darkly, "in fact, I would recommend that you rethink your association with him. Rapidly."

"Oh, you can be quite certain I will be rethinking my associations after this conversation, Lord Sultlue," she said in kind.

Briorbrin's two stomps on the floor were harder than was strictly necessary. But they weren't half as hard as the glare he gave her before turning over his left shoulder. More than happy to get away from that conversation, Arilyn returned the look as venomously as she dared before turning over her own shoulder and moving on to the next partner. There was only one partner left and then she would find herself back in front of Danilo and the dance would be...

A commotion suddenly erupted at the mid-point of her turn. There were gasps all around from the other dancers. As she completed her turn, she found Briorbrin sprawled on the floor glaring up at her. The music ground to a halt and suddenly, Danilo was at her side.

"Dirty, Elven assassin!" Briorbrin spat, springing to his feet. He took hold of Arilyn's sword arm wrist, wrenching it away from the Moonblade. "You did that on purpose!"

"What?" she nearly shouted with incredulity.

"What are you talking about?" Danilo echoed.

"It's bad enough you bring her kind into our halls, Lord Thann," Briorbrin continued, pulling on Arilyn's wrist and bringing her close, "but if you cannot be trusted to keep her from lashing out with her sword sheathe and tripping innocent revelers-"

"Unhand me!" Arilyn shouted, pulling her hand free and backing away. "I did nothing of the sort!"

"Arilyn," Danilo said with a note of warning, gently placing his hands on her shoulders.

She shrugged out of them.

"Do you call me a liar, half-elf?"

Danilo tried once again to insinuate himself between them. "Perhaps it would be best if-"

Arilyn pushed him aside. "I do!" she spat at Briorbrin.

"Arilyn," Danilo said in desperation, "I really think that-"

"You impugn my honor, sir," Briorbrin said, fixing his gaze on Danilo.

"Listen, Lord Sultlue-" the dandy began, only to be interrupted by Arilyn once more.

"What honor could you possibly be talking about? I see none. And what are you talking to him for?"

"Danilo, I demand you silence the mongrel!"

"Mongrel this!"

"Arilyn, wait!" Danilo's panicked voice echoed through the hall.

And with that, Arilyn's hand locked into a fist and she pulled back, sending it flying into Briorbrin's mid-section. He stumbled backward, clutching at his stomach.

A gasp went up from the crowd around them. There were murmurs all around. It took Arilyn a moment to register that Danilo had his hands over his eyes, as if trying not to look at the worst disaster ever to take place. A moment later, his shoulders fell and his hand scrubbed down his face.

"Not good," he muttered.

"He deserved... it?" Arilyn muttered to Danilo, changing her tone as he moved past her and went over to Briorbrin.

"Listen, Briorbrin, my friend," he began as the irate nobleman drew himself up to his full height, "I admit, this is a bit of a mess, but-"

Danilo was cut short by little more than Briorbrin's actions. He snatched a glove from where it was tucked on his belt and threw it onto the ground. Danilo stared at it in horror for a long moment.

"Well?" Briorbrin demanded. "Pick it up! Or are you as dishonorable as that half-elven whore?"

All at once, Danilo tensed. Arilyn found her eyes suddenly locked on Danilo's. The storm had returned to their grey depths. If it could have broken free, it would have consumed Briorbrin in a tempest the likes of which Waterdeep had likely never seen. Silently, glaring at Briorbrin all the while, Danilo reached down and picked up the glove. He held it up in front of Briorbrin's face.

"She has more honor in her thumb than you have in your entire person, Briorbrin. You know not what you have trifled with this night."

"Well, well," Briorbrin said softly, snatching the glove away from Danilo, "Danilo Thann has a backbone after all. Very well. We will argue this before Tyr himself. Choose your second."

"I will stand as second for Lord Thann," a voice piped up from the side. The crowd turned and there found Kerryn Belabranta. "If _he's_ taking a challenge seriously, there _must_ be something to it."

Danilo nodded a solemn thank you to him.

"I will stand as second to my half-brother," came another voice as another figure emerged from the crowd to stand at Briorbrin's shoulder. "Such an affront to house Sultlue will not be tolerated."

"Let us leave them to the preparations, then," said Danilo, casting one last glare to Briorbrin before turning back to Arilyn and making motions to escort her away from the scene.

"Danilo what is going on?" Arilyn hissed as they made their way to the exit.

"A challenge. A duel of honor."

"I gathered that much," she said, "what I don't get is why _you're_ fighting it instead of me."

Danilo paused for a long moment as they crossed the threshold of the entrance and emerged into the cool night air. "It's complicated."

"Then explain it to me!" she snapped, yanking her arm free of his grasp, then motioning to the deserted scene around them in the area outside the Belabranta villa. "It would seem we have the rest of the night for you to do so!"

Danilo continued toward the street, leaving Arilyn to trail after him. She wasn't sure if he was trying to get away from her or, like her, just wanted to get away from the fete and the people within. She caught up with him as he reached the street.

"Danilo!" she pressed.

With a frustrated sigh, he came to a halt and turned back to her. "The lord is, in part, responsible for the actions of the lady he escorts as well as responsible for defending her honor."

"First of all, that's completely ridiculous. Second, I'm perfectly capable of defending my own honor. And third, what in the nine hells is so complicated about it that made you not want to explain?"

"In that order, yes it is, I know that well, and because I knew you would react this way." Tossing the reply over his shoulder, Dan made his way to the street and waved for a carriage.

"Well, what do you propose we do about it?" Arilyn pressed, following after him.

"I fight the duel."

"That's it?" she asked, incredulously as the called-for carriage pulled up next to them. "Dan I've seen you with a sword. That doesn't strike me as the best idea."

Dan pulled open the door of the carriage and gave Arilyn a sour look. "Ah, a vote of the utmost confidence."

"I'm serious, Danilo! You could get yourself killed! And I don't need you to defend me!"

"There are worse things than getting killed," he said, climbing into the carriage.

Arilyn did not climb in after him. Instead, she slammed the door closed. "You are _both_ idiots."

"What are you doing?"

"Walking." She made a fist and knocked on the side of the carriage twice; the signal for the driver to head for his destination. The carriage lurched forward and she felt a momentary pang of guilt when she heard Danilo flop back into the seat, calling her name.

* * *

The laws of Waterdeep did not permit dueling within the limits of the city. They were, however, much less specific about leaving the city to hold the duel. So it was that the Masked Lords' attempt to bring an end to the dueling culture of the noble houses was thwarted and the ritual simply moved beyond the walls.

The air was unusually warm and still as Danilo passed through the gate and out into the countryside. He had no illusions about his chances; Briorbrin was one of the best swordsmen among the nobility and a deadly foe with a longsword in hand. It was sheer madness for a fighter of Danilo's comparatively meager caliber to attempt a fight with him. Dan was no slouch when it came to the Arte of Defense, but his magic rather than his rapier was normally his chosen weapon. And in the dueling code, the casting of spells was strictly forbidden during the duel itself.

Danilo had chosen a light leather doublet in brown for the duel, hoping its tighter fit would keep his looser shirt from interfering. But he had underestimated the oppressiveness of the air and by the time he arrived at the chosen ground, he already felt as if he was dragging.

His grip tightened around the brass hilt of his rapier as he approached the wide top of the gently rolling hill and surveyed the scene of the duel. Kerryn, his second, was there already of course, as was Briorbrin's second. A great fire had been stoke in a newly-dug pit, flaming as orange as the setting sun to the west. Briorbrin's second backed off somewhat and Kerryn met Dan on the edge of the grounds.

"I am the first, then?" Dan asked.

Kerryn nodded. "Yeah, you're the first hear," he said, "Dan, are you certain you want to go through with this? Briorbrin could kill you if you're not careful."

"Want to?" Dan asked, sardonically. "No. Have to? Yea. I have been far too cavalier with my honor of late."

"Of late? You've never seemed to care about it at all, before."

"Perhaps it's time to start."

Kerryn shook his head. "You picked a hell of a first opponent."

As Kerryn said this, Briorbrin came marching over the crest of the hill, longsword in hand and white shirt open at the collar. His second met him at the edge of the grounds and the two of them conversed for several minutes.

"Still no sign of that elf that got you into this," Kerry said, "the least she could do is show up."

"She is a half-elf," Danilo corrected, rather more sharply than he intended, "and her name is Arilyn."

"No need to get touchy, Dan. I don't need to be fighting the next duel. But... are you certain she understands...?"

"Arilyn understand perfectly well. She'll be here."

"She had best be here soon," said Kerryn, "or Briorbrin will have considerable to crow about no matter the duel's outcome." Kerryn produced a set of linen wrappings from a haversack at his side and began to wind them around Dan's right forearm, adjusting his sleeves so that Dan's movement wasn't restricted, but the sleeves were well out of the way. He then did the same on the left and was just finishing when he looked up, over Dan's shoulder, and did a double-take. "I don't believe it," he said in surprise.

Danilo turn and followed Kerryn's gaze and there saw Arilyn marching up over the hill, directly toward him. The gown she had been wearing the previous night was gone, replaced by a simple tunic and leggings of grey. The Moonblade was there too, of course, fastened around her waist as always.

"Neither do I," Danilo replied to Kerryn, "she's wearing the Elven color for mourning."

"Not exactly sending the right message, is it?"

"Depends on who's listening," said Danilo, moving off to meet Arilyn on the edge of the grounds.

"This is still stupid," she said as he approached.

"And I see you came prepared."

"_Something_ is going to get killed today." She shouldered her way past him and moved toward the bonfire at the center of the grounds. She came to a halt next to it, her gaze fixed on Briorbrin and his second. If her eyes had been crossbows, she would have shot her anger upon them. They spoke as loudly as a herald's cry, demanding the attention of the two Sultlues.

"Since the damage has been done, there is no more danger in speaking the truth," she declared, "you challenged Danilo to defend my honor, believing that he would not and that I could not; a coward's act. Danilo met that challenge in spite of you.

"You look on the surface and dismiss the rest. Because of this, I have come to know Danilo in a short time far better than you have in years. He is not what you believe him to be. And I willingly put my trust in him, as I have already.

"I will not, however, have no hand in defending my own honor."

Turning back to Danilo, she drew forth the Moonblade. She held it in hand for a moment, allowing everyone there to ponder it. Then, she pointed the hilt at Danilo. "You understand this better than anyone save me," she said to him.

"Slowly, solemnly, Danilo laid his hand on the sword hilt. The ninth rune on the sword's bade, Arilyn's rune, shimmered slightly as he closed his fingers around it and took it from her.

"Arilyn," he said softly so the others couldn't hear, "I'm not as well trained to use this sort of a sword."

"The Moonblade will help with that," she whispered, "just trust it. I need you to use it."

With a deep breath, Danilo nodded.

"Ever the showman, Lord Thann," Briorbrin spat with a huff, taking his own sword from it's sheathe, "am I supposed to be intimidated by an Elven sword, then?"

"Not really," said Dan lightly, "you're supposed to be intimidated by an Elven Moonblade."

Briorbrin snorted in derision. "That means nothing to me."

"No," Danilo replied with a sigh, "I suppose that it wouldn't." He turned away for a moment, back to Kerryn, reaching down to remove his own rapier from his belt. As if in afterthought, he turned back to Briorbrin. "I'd hate to be accused of further dishonor, Briorbrin. It _doesn't_ intimidate you, does it?"

"Certainly not in _your_ hands," Briorbrin replied, grinding his teeth.

"Excellent well!" Dan tossed back over his shoulder as he handed Kerryn his rapier. "Shall we begin then?"

"By all means."

"Lord Thann," said Briorbrin's second, "are you satisfied with your opponent's choice of weapon?"

"Oh, most certainly," Danilo replied.

"Lord Sultlue," said Kerryn, "are you satisfied with your opponent's choice of weapon?"

"Yes, yes, it's fine," Briorbrin replied, testily.

"Do honor to the all-powerful Tyr, the Even-Handed," both seconds intoned in unison.

Danilo and Briorbrin both lifted their weapons toward the bonfire.

"Do honor to your most worthy opponent," said the seconds.

Each combatant lifted their sword to the other, exchanging venomous glares.

"My Tyr judge the victor," said the seconds, each raising a hand into the space between Danilo and Briorbrin. Together, the dropped them and backed away.

Almost instantly, Briorbrin leaped forward with a one-handed thrust straight at Danilo. With a gasp, Dan sidestepped out of the way, leaving the Moonbalde behind him somewhat, in one hand, to prevent Briorbrin's sword from hitting home. Dan vaulted back into a defensive stance. Briorbrin pressed in on him with a back-handed rising cut. With a flick of his wrist and a bend of his knees, Danilo dipped the Moonblade under Briorbrin's sword. The attack missed Danilo by inches. Catching Briorbrin's sword on the crosspiece of the Moonblade, Danilo pushed upward and rebounded, sending an attack straight at Briorbrin's shoulder. Pivoting on his foot, Briorbrin stepped in, pulling his blade back and punching forward with his hilt. His crosspiece slid down the length of the Moonblade, even as Danilo continued forward. Their hilts met with a ringing clash and the Moonblade skipped off to the side. Danilo tried to sidestep, but Briorbrin's hilt smashed into his shoulder. The exchange had set them both off balance and they backpedaled out of range.

Danilo's shoulder ached and it protested as he lifted the Moonblade up again, using the one-handed guard with which he was most familiar. As he did, he noticed the blue glow that was suddenly enshrouding the Moonblade.

"Danilo! The blade is blue!" Arilyn yelled from her place near the edge of the grounds.

"Yes, whoever thought it was so sarcastic?" Dan shouted back.

"Belabranta, silence her before she invalidates the duel! I'll not have it!" Briorbrin snarled.

"You mustn't tell Danilo what to do," Kerryn said to Arilyn, "they would have to fight the duel again. And I doubt Danilo has enough in him to fight Briorbrin twice. For his sake, you must remain silent no matter what happens."

Danilo and Briorbrin launched themselves at each other again. Briorbrin rained attacks down on Danilo from all sides. Dan remained on the defensive, just barely meeting the attacks with parries as he darted in and out of Briorbrin's range and searched for an opening.

"He should have used his rapier," Kerryn muttered just loud enough that only Arilyn could hear, "that sword of yours is too heavy. Danilo's already getting tired."

"He's forgetting," said Arilyn, "the Moonblade wants to be used two-handed."

"But... it's a single-hand hilt."

"It's complicated." Arilyn fixed her gaze on Danilo, willing him to remember. "C'mon, Danilo! Two hands!" she murmured. "Use it right!"

It was all Danilo could do to hold back Briorbrin's onslaught. He dodged and circled, parried and backpedaled. But everywhere he went, Briorbrin was on top of him, a vicious twinkle in his eye. It suddenly occurred to him that Briorbrin was all but toying with him. And the Moonblade's blue glow declared to all that Briorbrin was after more than just a few cuts and humiliation. He wanted Danilo dead.

_Use it right, you fool!_ a thought rang through Dan's mind just then. It took a moment for him to realize that it was not his own.

Momentarily staggered by the revelation, Danilo missed a thrust that Briorbrin sent in low. By the time Dan realized what had happened, Briorbrin's tip had sliced a sizable gash along Dan's right thigh. His leg gave way beneath him and Dan landed on one knee with a strangled yelp.

"The first touch is mine, Thann," Briorbrin spat down at him, "four more and the duel is mine. Renounce the Elf and vow never to associate with her again and it will be the last."

"For the last time, she's a half-elf and her name is Arilyn," Danilo replied through clenched teeth, his free hand covering the wound on his leg, blood welling up through his fingers. "And what you ask isn't possible, I'm afraid."

"Then suffer for your foolish choice!" Briorbrin leaped toward Danilo again, his sword coming down in an eviscerating falling cut.

Danilo rolled to the side and Briorbrin's blade met only ground. Dan tried to regain his feet, but the wound in his thigh howled in pain and he collapsed back to one knee. The next thing he knew, Briorbrin's boot was sailing toward him. It connected with Dan's sternum, sending him sprawling.

"That's two!" Briorbrin roared.

Stunned from the blow, there was nothing Danilo could do to prevent the second kick from landing home in his side, sending him rolling toward the bonfire.

"And three!" Briorbrin howled.

Sprawled out on his back, Danilo suddenly found Briorbrin's sword falling toward him from the sky. In a last-ditch effort, he met the attack with a block from the Moonblade, holding it in two hands in a desperate attempt to find enough strength to hold back the blow.

_Finally!_ another thought rang through Dan's mind. _Go now!_

Danilo did the first thing that come to mind and pinwheeled his legs around beneath Briorbrin, faster than he should have been able to. His momentum carried him around and he rolled to his feet as Briorbrin staggered back. Gasping for breath and gritting his teeth against the burning pain in his leg and the developing bruises in his chest and side, Danilo stood on shaking legs with his back to the bonfire and the Moonblade in a two-handed guard in front of him.

Briorbrin paused and eyed the miserable-looking figured before him with suspicion. "When did you gain that much speed?"

"Forgot one little detail, that's all," Danilo replied between labored breaths, "nothing to concern yourself with."

"Something is different. Did you cast a spell?"

Danilo rolled his eyes. "Yes, Briorbrin, I cast a spell while you were pummeling me with your boot, just now. Don't be ridiculous. Do you wish to finish this or shall we call it a day?"

"If you're in such a hurry..."

Briorbrin moved to attack, but Danilo was suddenly in motion, Briorbrin's attack turned into a parry that beat aside Danilo's advance. Dan vaulted to the side and Briorbrin pivoted, dropping his sword to the ground, immediately in Danilo's path.

Danilo lost his feet and landed hard on his wounded leg. The jarring send him tumbling, headlong, directly into the bonfire. He gave a pained yelp and as he landed in the white-hot inferno at the center, the burning wood fell in around him. Danilo was certain that he was going to burn.

It was several moments later that he realized the flames were not touching him. Another of the runes on the Moonblade was blazing with light and Danilo wasn't sure if it was simply the fire reflecting off it or something more supernatural.

"I guess we will only play to four," he heard Briorbrin crow.

"Don't count me out yet, Briorbrin," Danilo choked out, staggering to his feet, painfully, and pushing aside the burning pieces of wood. He stood in the very center of the flames, Moonblade held in tow hands before him, grey eyes blazing as strongly as the fire.

"How is this possible without magic?" Briorbrin howled. "That fire is white-hot! You should be burning! I demand that you admit to casting spells during the duel!"

"No spell," said Danilo, "magic, but no spell."

Briorbrin sneered at him in stupidity for several moments, clearly convinced that Danilo was mad. But then, all at once, confusion passed through understanding to anger.

"The sword!" he blared, spinning around to face Arilyn. "You did this!"

Danilo laughed as if he had just managed to pull off some great prank. "At last, Briorbrin Sultlue comes to the party! Fashionably late, of course!"

Blaring out his anger, Briorbrin turned back to Danilo. "Come out of there and fight like a nobleman!" he shouted, stamping a foot on the ground like an enraged bull.

"As you wish," Dan said. Slowly, playing with the flames that could not touch him as he came in a show of amusement, he stepped out of the fire. He tried to cover up the fact that the exchange had been costly for him. His whole body ached and his leg was on the edge of its limit, about to give way. Danilo could no longer depend on his agility.

Briorbrin leaped at him again and their weapons met with a ring. Speed of the weapons became the important fact in the fight. Back and forth they went, attacking and blocking in a dizzying flurry of steel. The ringing of blades turned into a song, both combatants following a pattern of moves and sound.

Without warning, Briorbrin introduced discord. He began an attack, the momentarily pulled it back, breaking their rhythm. Danilo moved to parry a blade that wasn't there, setting him off balance. Briorbrin recommenced his attack, beating on the Moonblade. The ancient sword went spinning out of Danilo's hand and landed a short way off, tip stabbed into the ground and hilt upturned toward the sky. Briorbrin's sword rebounded off the beat and sailed back in Danilo's direction. It was all Danilo could do to leap back out of the way. The jarring that happened when he landed brought his wounded leg beyond its limit and he collapsed to the ground, weaponless and letting out a strangled cry.

Briorbrin snorted out a satisfied laugh, then cast a glance back to Arilyn with a malicious smile. Sensing that something very bad was about to happen, she rushed forward and came to a halt not far from Danilo's side, only stopping when Dan put up a hand to halt her.

"You wanted a hand in this duel," Briorbrin said, taking a step backward toward the Moonblade, "I think I will enlist your help in ending him."

Danilo's eyes went wide in horror as he realized was Briorbrin was about to do. "No, Briorbrin, don't!" he yelled desperately, dimly aware that Arilyn was shouting a similar warning.

But it was too late. Even as they shouted, Briorbrin's hand closed around the hilt of the Moonblade and he loosed it from the ground.

As Briorbrin charged forward, lifting the Moonblade high in preparation for his intended killing blow, a great, rumbling cacophony erupted above them all. Before Briorbrin could take even two steps, blue-white lightning split the heavens with an angry roar and struck him. For an instant, everyone there could see a perfect outline of Briorbrin's skeleton cast against his skin. His eyes and mouth blackened and erupted into fire, then sickly, acrid smoke.

The smell of burned flesh filled the air and Briorbrin's body, now blackened and empty, slumped to the ground in a smoking heap. The Moonblade clattered to the ground nearby.

Silence permeated the area as Danilo, Arilyn, and the two seconds all stared at the grizzly scene, in horror.

"By the Nine Hells!" Briorbrin's second whispered.

"What curse was that?" Kerryn said in kind.

The toll of the fight finally caught up with Danilo. He crumpled forward with a pained moan, holding his sides and coughing. He spit something into the grass as Arilyn came forward and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Danilo?"

"Ow," he replied.

"Oh, by the Goddess," Arilyn muttered, "I'm so angry with you for this foolishness."

"The Moonblade," Danilo gasped, painfully pushing himself back up, "before they touch it."

Arilyn's head snapped around to the Moonblade and an instant later, she got up and went to it.

"Touch it?" Kerryn said as she passed him. "No worries about that!"

She ignored him and she retrieved the ancient sword and slid it back into its sheathe on her belt, her eyes locked upon the heap of burned flesh that had been Briorbrin Sultlue.

"May the Seldarine forgive you your arrogance," she said to it. She pondered the sight for a moment more, her hand tightening around the Moonblade's hilt, before turning her back to it and going back to Danilo. He was about to fall forward again and she caught him by the shoulders. "You need healing," she said.

"You're not kidding," Dan moaned.

"I sure hope this lunacy was worth all this."

Danilo reached up and pushed aside a curl of hair from her face. "Worth every bump, my dear," he said, flashing her a pained smile, "just one thing."

"What?"

"I can't move."

Sighing one of her now trademark exasperated sighs, Arilyn put an arm around Danilo's waist and pulled his right arm over her shoulder. "Just put your weight on me," she instructed, lifting him to his feet. Together, they began to limp back toward Waterdeep, leaving the two seconds to ponder all that had happened.

* * *

A visit to Blackstaff Tower had garnered Danilo a healing spell from his uncle as well as an accompanying lecture about reckless risks. This time, Arilyn simply waited for the Archmage to finish his platitudes rather than try to explain the situation. In truth, she had been about to give Danilo much the same lecture.

It was already late at night by the time they returned to Danilo's rowhouse. They had said little on their way and even less once they entered. Arilyn was incredibly tired and could tell Danilo was as well. There were several moments when she had almost broached the topic of what had happened at the dueling grounds, but thought better of it. It didn't feel like a topic for the dark hours. Better to leave it for the next day. So, she had gone to the guest room that Yandle had made up for her instead and prepared to turn in for the night.

She was just crawling under the blankets when lute music drifted up from the lower level. It was the same song that Danilo had been working on earlier.

Arilyn found herself suddenly drawn to the music. It was suddenly important to her to go and listen, properly, to the tune that Danilo had written; the tune no one but her had heard yet. So she crept out of her room, down the stairs, and into the parlor where Danilo sat on the settee, playing in the light of the fireplace. When she came to the doorway, Danilo looked up for a moment and gave her a smile, but said nothing and continued to play. Wordlessly, she crossed the room and stoked the fire, then lighted on the open windowsill, put her head back against the frame, closed her eyes, and listened.

_End Episode Two_

* * *

I have a fair amount of thanks I need to offer up for this one, none the least of which is to the folks who have weathered the long wait for this chapter. I'd like to say that the next one will come faster, but due to a bit of reworking of the plot bunny's concept that I'm going to be doing, it may take just as long. Apologies in advance. This is why I've never really entertained the idea of trying to go pro. Ever.

First and foremost, thanks go out to Elaine Cunningham. The recent news that book six won't be coming down the pike after all has been heart-breaking, but understandable given the circumstances. Plus, all the talk about it finally kick-started me into actually writing the scenes for the ball and the duel itself in this chapter. Nothing like a good bit of inspiration. I may yet take the capsule summary from the press for the abandoned Reclamation and run with it as a fanfic. Who knows?

Secondly, I gotta thank my beloved local chapter of the Society for Creative Anachronism. A lot of inspiration for the details of my fantasy-genre fics have been coming from them lately and this one is no exception. My writing on everything from garb to dance to the arts martial have been much improved because of what I have learned from the good people in the SCA. Vivant!

As always, I look forward to getting comments from people. Please let me know what you think of the chapter.

In the meantime, here's the preview for episode three.

_Episode Three: Rope, Whip, Iron Chain_

_Set between Elfshadow and The Bargain. Arilyn and Danilo accept their first mission as full-fledged Harpers; to investigate a series of disappearances tied to a slavers' ring out of the mysterious Skullport. But when they find at its core a group of the Eldtreth Veluuthra, they find themselves becoming the hunted._

Sweet water and light laughter to you, until next we meet!

Berz.


	3. Rope, Whip, Iron Chain

The Adventures of the Blade and the Ballad

Episode Three: Rope, Whip, Iron Chain

By Berzerker_prime

Summary: Set between Elfshadow and The Bargain. Arilyn and Danilo accept their first mission as full-fledged Harpers; to investigate a series of disappearances tied to a slavers' ring out of the mysterious Skullport. But when they find at its core a group of the Eldreth Veluuthra, they find themselves becoming the hunted.

Notes for Episode Three: This episode was originally quite a bit more violent than what turned out here. But after the massive amount of crap I've already put Dan through in the previous episodes, I decided it was time to be a little less mean. The fact that I count _this_ as "less mean" probably says something about me that I don't care to think about. What can I say? This was the plot bunny that started gnawing away and wouldn't leave me alone.

I'm also engaging in a little bit of self-indulgence with this chapter. Some of the characters were NPCs in a Forgotten Realms D&D campaign that my gaming group ran for several years. As Songs and Swords is set a few years before that campaign, I decided to explore a little bit about the backgrounds of some of those NPCs. I hope it won't be too intrusive. Special thanks to my GM, Bob-san, for making up the characters in the first place.

This episode is mainly character and relationship development for our two favorite heroes. I also wanted to have them going on a mission for Khelben and the Harpers, so I figured what better one than their first?

Enjoy! Sweet water to you!

* * *

The sun was high in the sky and a breeze was gently blowing across the grasses near the road. Almost as if in answer to the breeze – though some might say in defiance of it – a lute sounded a chorus of notes.

Danilo Thann sat leaning against the trunk of a large tree near the side of the road which ran north of Waterdeep, absently plucking the strings of his instrument, his mind wandering. Almost constantly, now, his eyes were on the portion of the road that led further north, waiting to see a lone figure traveling toward the City of Splendors.

Arilyn had only been gone for a month, seeing to some business in Silverymoon. But Danilo had found that after only a week he had grown weary of her absence. He wasn't entirely certain what it was about the half elf that so fascinated him. Perhaps it was her remarkable sword; Arilyn was the only half-elf ever to successfully claim a Moonblade, after all. Or perhaps it was the way she had so easily seen through his foppish persona when so many others had dismissed it entirely. Or maybe it was her gorgeous black hair and her exotic blue eyes.

Probably.

A tune had presented itself, working its way through Dan's fingers and out through the strings of the lute. He listened to it for a moment and suddenly a poem he had written some time prior came to mind. He combined the two and tried it out as a song.

_Now here is a tale that's good for a laugh,_

_A tale of a sorcerer and his long staff._

_He bought it as wood and then when he grew old,_

_He set about soundly to plate it with gold._

The tune worked well with the poem, a ribald, bawdy thing written in common meter with just a little more than a bit of innuendo. Dan liked the sound of it and found himself singing more of the song, progressively louder and with more bravado.

_He set it with stones that shone like the moon,_

_In hopes that its power would rise very soon._

_He masterfully polished its round, bulbous top,_

_And oh so carefully would n'er let it drop._

_The sorcerer carried it where ever he went,_

_Its power seemed endless, its magic n'er- _eerrkk!

Hands were suddenly on his throat, reaching around the tree from somewhere behind. They weren't squeezing, at least not yet. Clearly, it was a threat rather than an attack. Dan's back went ramrod straight and stiff and he held as still as possible.

"Must you?" came an accompanying voice, dripping with exasperation and, Dan thought he heard, a hint of amusement.

"Skulking again?" he asked breathing a sigh of relief as the hands disappeared and Arilyn came out of her hiding place.

"You really should be more attentive when you're out here alone," she scolded, "I could have been a highwayman."

"Well," said Danilo as he rose to his feet and began to gather up his lute and his cloak, "at least you would be one with good taste. And considerable more skill than your _average_ highwayman, I might add."

"Flattery will earn you no extra points," Arilyn said with a laugh.

"Ah! So you admit that I'm incredibly charming!"

"Don't push it. What are you doing out here, waiting for me, anyway? I thought we were going to meet at the Dripping Dagger."

"I'd like to be able to say that it's because I simply couldn't wait another moment to set my eyes upon your beauty," said Dan, "but that is only partially true. Uncle Khelben sent me to fetch you. He wants to see us right away, as soon as you get back to Waterdeep. No delays."

"That urgent, huh?" she mused. "Whatever it is, it can't be good."

"That was what I thought."

Arilyn sighed and her shoulders dropped. "I knew I should have spent another day in Silverymoon."

* * *

Tharleon Street was busy during that time of day. As Danilo and Arilyn walked down it, westward, they passed many a merchant or consumer hurrying their way to or from the expansive Market that lied between Trader's Way and Bazaar Street. Beyond, the imposing Blackstaff Tower loomed on the horizon above all the buildings. Danilo led the way through the cacophony of well-to-do Castle Ward dwellers and turned north-west on to Swords Street as Blackstaff Tower came into full view. It distinguished itself from the surrounding buildings by looking at least ten times as imposing. Made of dark stone and sporting no visible entrances or exits, it was surrounded by a wall nearly a story and a half tall.

Danilo, as one of Khelben's students, had been granted the secret of entry into Blackstaff Tower. There was a certain spot on the wall that was specially warded to admit entry to a select few individuals. Dan made his way directly toward it, never breaking pace nor slowing.

The reward for his confidence was a sharp impact against hard stone. He muttered a swear under his breath, rubbing his nose and hearing a short snicker from Arilyn.

"I swear he moves the blasted thing," he said to her, sourly, as he gently pressed against the stone wall, feeling for the entrance.

Rolling her eyes skyward, Arilyn leaned against the wall to watch as Dan pushed against it, working his way back toward her. She couldn't suppress a smirk as she watched.

Dan gave a pause and looked up at her. "What?" he asked around an exasperated sigh.

"I didn't say anything," she replied, throwing her hands up in a gesture of innocence.

Danilo moved to lean against the wall, placing his hand just next to Arilyn's head. "Well, I'd like to see you find-"

Just as his hand met the surface of the wall and he applied pressure to it, Danilo found himself falling inward and tumbling to the ground just inside the wall.

"Oh look! I found it!" he heard Arilyn's sarcastic voice from the other side.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Danilo picked himself up off the ground and thrust a hand back through the magical entrance. "C'mon!" he said sourly, pulling on one of Arilyn's shoulders. She passed through the opening as if there was no wall and gave Dan a grin.

Together, they walked through the comparatively quiet courtyard of Blackstaff Tower and entered the tower itself through a set of large, wooden, double doors. Standing there in the foyer, waiting for them, was the Blackstaff himself, Khelben Arunson.

"I was just coming to let you in," he said.

And thus was the wounding of Danilo's pride complete.

"Really, uncle, is an invisible door truly necessary?" Danilo asked, scrubbing his face with a hand.

"Yes," said Khelben, "come along, both of you. We have business to attend to." He turned and made his way toward one of the parlors off the main foyer.

"At least you can get through the ward," Arilyn whispered to Danilo as they followed.

"He's my uncle!" Danilo shot back.

"And you're a full-fledged Harper," Arilyn said around a sigh, "me, I'm just a crony they're not sure they can entirely trust."

They crossed through a threshold into the parlor. It was lit by a number of sconces on the walls and candelabra on tables. Instead of flame, however, they each held a small, permanent _light _spell, giving the room a bit of an ethereal feel. Several plush chairs were scattered about, richly carved tables set between them. There were no windows in the room, making the presence of curtains unnecessary, but the tapestries served to cover the cold stone of the walls well. Danilo had been left alone in the room, many a time, to wait with nothing but these tapestries to stare at and study. There were times he could swear that the images woven into them moved.

"Have patience, my dear," Danilo replied, his tone softening at the sound of Arilyn's frustration, "I understand that Bran Skorlsun's name carries quite a bit of weight at Twilight Hall. I'm certain he'll come through any day, now."

"That day being today," Khelben broke in on the conversation as he picked up a scroll from a nearby table. He handed it to Arilyn. She unfurled it as Khelben continued. "As of today, you are Arilyn Moonblade, Harper Scout. Though I do not advise you simply go around introducing yourself as such."

"Naturally," Arilyn said absently as she looked over the scroll. It was the official proclamation that named her a Harper. All of the Harpers of Twilight Hall had affixed their signature to it, her father included. Khelben's sigil also featured quite prominently.

"I'm told that Bran already gave you his Harper pin, so there is no need to give you a new one," Khelben continued, beginning to pace about the room.

Danilo lighted in the nearest seat and tossed off a grin to Arilyn, then watched the old wizard.

"I want you to know that we have the utmost trust in you," Khelben went on, "however, I feel it necessary to emphasize the need for care. While the existence of the Harpers is well known across Faerûn, its membership remains a guarded secret, for the most part. It allows us to act in situations and places where we might not otherwise be able to do so."

"Of course," Arilyn answered.

Danilo's attention was now fully on Khelben. This was a tone of voice he knew well; the lecturing old teacher giving instructions to an errant student. He had used it many a time when speaking to Danilo, but he had never heard Khelben address Arilyn using it.

Khelben wasn't speaking to Arilyn.

Danilo sat up and rested his elbows on his knees. Folding his hands, he rested his chin on his knuckles and set his uncle with that look that said he was unhappy with what the archmage was doing. He thought that he saw Khelben cast a hard look back in his direction.

"Naturally, one must take care not to rush in to a situation, even if your actions would bring about good in the end," Khelben lectured on, "the Harpers exist to bring order to the chaos that roams the land, not simply to do good. Order, ultimately, will bring about the most good."

"As you would expect," Arilyn said, carefully, starting to get the impression that something else was going on with this speech.

Arilyn's discomfort with the situation was the final straw for Dan. He rose to his feet. "I hate to break your rhythm, uncle," he said, "but Arilyn has journeyed quite far today. I'm sure she's quite tired. If this is all..."

"It isn't," Khelben said, sticking Dan with an irate glare, "since you are both, now, officially on the rolls as Harpers, it's about time you had your first mission."

"Right now?" Danilo asked, almost incredulously.

"I don't believe the possibility of a slaver's ring operating within Waterdeep is anything to put off to later, Danilo. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Isn't slavery illegal in Waterdeep?" Arilyn asked.

"Yes," Danilo said, sobering slightly, his irritation cooling, "any slave owner who brings their slave inside the city sets that slave free. Slave trade is strictly disallowed. And it's a repugnant practice, besides."

"Then, I assume you will have no objections to the assignment," said Khelben.

Danilo sputtered for a choice word to give his uncle; one that would manage to get his point across without getting him turned into stone or a frog or a badger. Khelben was pulling Danilo's strings and he didn't appreciate it one bit.

Arilyn, however, put a hand on his arm, silencing him. She spoke before Danilo could say anything. "Of course," she said, "where do we start?"

Khelben nodded at her approvingly, pointedly ignoring Danilo's roll of the eyes. "Dock Ward," he said, "this came to our attention when an assistant to the owner of the Ship's Prow went missing. In searching for the lad, he spread the word and came to learn that several others in the area have gone missing as well; mostly vagabonds and young street children."

"Why is a slaver's ring suspected?" Danilo asked, giving in to the inevitable and his temper cooling further at the mention of the missing children, besides.

"Someone informed the owner of the Ship's Prow that they saw a cloaked figure lowering a large bundle, one large enough to be a small person, into a local well. The well leads directly down to one of the lower parts of the Waterdeep sewers."

"Undermountain," Danilo realized.

"Skullport," Arilyn said, her jaw set.

"Precisely," Khelben stated, "the most active center of slave-trade in the region, above or below the surface of Faerûn. And a hotbed of activity for the Zhentarim as well."

"Uncle, you're not sending us into the heart of Zhentarim territory on our first mission!" Danilo exclaimed.

"No," Khelben answered, holding up a hand as if to calm a wild animal, "in fact, if your investigations lead to Skullport, you two are _not_ to pursue them yourselves. Report your findings to me and I will see that it is taken care of. This mission is largely for you to confirm what we have already heard and gather more information. If it leads to the Zhentarim, your involvement will end. If not, you are free to follow your leads and do what you can to put an end to it in whatever way seems best to you."

"That's a great deal of latitude," said Dan, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing Khelben carefully, "you're not worried we'll let our passions guide us and do something impulsive, chaotic, and reckless?"

"Danilo, even you couldn't be so reckless as to create an impenetrable mess out of this situation that the Harpers are unable to clean up," the archmage replied, then went on before Dan could shoot a retort back, "start in the Dock Ward with the owner of the Ship's Prow. He can give you detailed information." With that, he headed toward the doorway and the foyer, off to another task. "And... be careful out there," he added, rather quietly, as he passed through and disappeared around the doorframe.

Danilo and Arilyn were left alone in the parlor and neither of them said anything nor moved for several moments. Dan stared at the space that his uncle had just vacated, several emotions conflicting within him; anger at being manipulated, sympathy for the missing victims, respect for the fact that the archmage saw fit to do something about it, and even that underlying undeniable feeling of...

Arilyn put a sympathetic hand on Dan's shoulder and cocked her head toward the door. Danilo nodded in agreement and they both departed.

* * *

They spent the remainder of the afternoon at Danilo's rowhouse, going over plans and ideas and enjoying a warm meal. Though they talked for hours, their conversation largely moved in circles as they tried to come to an agreement on how to handle the situation. One or both of them always seemed to have a reason why they were unable to tackle an element of their plans the way they surmised. At the end of the afternoon, as the sun began to set and the hour they were to begin neared, they found that their only clear path was to go and speak with the owner of the Ship's Prow.

So it was that the two of them found themselves in Dock Ward after daylight hours, moving through the Waterdhavian streets and dodging dock workers and sea-farers of varying quality as they went.

The Ship's Prow Inn occupied a prominent spot where Fish Street and Ship Street met. The place was aptly named, having once been the front hull of a large, wooden, sailing ship. Rising four stories from the ground, the inn looked for all the world as if it was sailing the solid stone-paved streets of the city. Time had washed the boards of the Ship's Prow to an almost shining silver, making it even more of a beacon on the dark streets.

Dan's nose wrinkled involuntarily as he caught a particularly pungent whiff of the Dock Ward air. Old fish, sewage, and other even less pleasant odors mingled in the stagnant air. He cast his gaze about, wondering where this latest dose of stink had come from, and came to the conclusion that it could have been any one of the numerous denizens wandering past. His money was on the staggeringly-drunk fellow retching near a rubbish pile. Luckily, he didn't have to put up with the smell for too long, since he and Arilyn passed through the door into the Ship's Prow.

Almost immediately as they entered, they came to a long counter and were met by a large, one-eyed, and silver-bearded old man. A black leather eye patch was over his left eye, hiding the majority of a rather unsightly and jagged scar.

"You Jhambrote Harkhardest?" Arilyn asked, taking the lead as they approached the hold man.

"That's me," the old man answered, "owner an' propri'ter of the Ship's Prow. How can I be helpin' you this evenin' miss? Master?" He cast a genial glance in turn to each of them.

Danilo glanced across the foyer into the common room and noted a number of folk mingling there. He decided that it was best to try and keep attention away from their line of questions.

"I wondered if I might play for your common room," Danilo said, bringing his lute to bear.

Jhambrote fixed his one eye on Dan and looked him up and down. "Yer a Thann, ain't ya?"

"Why, yes," Dan answered.

The inn-keeper looked at him again, hard, as if studying him, for another long moment. Careful to keep a vapid look on his own face, Danilo sized up Jhambrote as well. The inn-keeper had a small hand axe on his belt and for an instant, Dan thought he saw an eye wink open and shut. It nearly made him jump.

"Well," Jhambrote finally said with a laugh, "lookin' ta sing a song that they wouldn't approve of up in Castle Ward, 'eh?"

"Something like that," Dan answered in kind.

"Ah, g'won," said Jhambrote, "have at it. Oughtta be good."

"Thank you, my good man!" Danilo said, moving off into the common room. "You won't regret it!"

"_I_ will," Arilyn muttered, leaning an elbow on the counter behind which Jhambrote was standing.

"Everyone's a critic," Dan tossed back at her with a wink, then turned his attention to the people gathered in the common room. He strummed a chord on his lute as he strolled across the room, adding at the end of it a flourish of notes until he was certain he had the attention of everyone there. Even the cat that was sitting on the window sill turned its attention to him. "Good masters! A few moments of your time and I shall tell you a tale! This is the Song of the Sorcerer's Staff. And believe me, when I say that it isn't as _long_ as you might think."

There were a few short chuckles and several of the patrons gave a whoop of delight. Danilo cast one quick glance at Arilyn and noticed that she was in deep, serious conversation with Jhambrote, now, taking advantage of Danilo's distraction. For a moment, he marveled at how easily she had picked up on his plan.

Danilo began with a long, stylized version of the tune, giving a decent introduction to which his audience began to clap their hands and stomp their feet. He picked up the pace just a bit, adding more energy to it, before beginning.

_Now here is a tale that's good for a laugh,_

_A tale of a sorcerer and his long staff._

_He bought it as wood and then when he grew old,_

_He set about soundly to plate it with gold._

_He set it with stones that shone like the moon,_

_In hopes that its power would rise very soon._

_He masterfully polished its round, bulbous top,_

_And oh so carefully would n'er let it drop._

_The sorcerer carried it where ever he went,_

_Its power seemed endless, its magic n'er spent._

_The top it would glisten like water on glass,_

_When e're the old sorcerer did see a fine lass._

The crowd, which was mostly comprised of old, sea-weary sailors and rough young men, was really getting into the song, now. Whoops of delight and lewd comments rose up from them at random intervals. Clearly, most of them had not seen a woman in quite some time and had only the one thing on their minds. It was just what Dan was hoping for. They were hanging on his every word, now, waiting to hear the juicy parts of the tale. He added in a verse of instrumental playing in order to build up tension and keep their attention upon him.

_Till one day an object came to his town_

_That rivaled the beauty of the staff's golden crown._

_A statue of a fine winged maiden so fair,_

_So light and so lifelike she danced through the air._

_The sorcerer knew that all who lived there,_

_Now spoke of the maiden instead of his 'ware._

_And, truth be told, he thought her fair, too,_

_More fair than his staff and that just wouldn't do._

_Old sorcerer thought to make her less known_

_For her beauty and honor, this maiden of stone._

_One night he searched and he found the right place_

_To thrust in his staff, tumble her to her face._

Several cat-calls came from the crowd, now. Obviously, that was the part they had been waiting for. He added in some more color, ad-libbing a bridge between the verses.

_Now the maiden was heavy despite her light air,_

_But the sorcerer pushed and he pushed without care._

_Till finally his rage gathered all in one kick_

_And he shattered to pieces his fine golden stick._

A raucous laugh erupted from the crowd and several of them pounded their tankards on their tables in front of them. But they could all still sense that the punch line was still forth-coming. With another flourish of notes, Danilo changed keys a step up.

_The maiden still stood with a grin in her eyes,_

_While old sorcerer wept for his great staff's demise._

_He mournfully gathered the pieces in hand,_

_Tried to put them together, but n'er did they stand._

_At last he buried them away in his land,_

_And looked not upon them, held not in his hand._

_He never returned to the small sleepy town,_

_For never could he stand to be seen so struck down._

_But the maiden still stands on her feet to this day,_

_And her twinkling eyes still dance and still say_

_"old man, you are foolish for any can see_

_your staff is much older and weaker than me!"_

As the crowd cheered and crowed their delight, Danilo added another verse-worth of flourish as an end-cap. When he finally finished, the crowd pounded their tankards and stomped their feet. Someone handed Danilo a mug of cool water that smelled faintly of mint and he took a pull from it gratefully.

He cast another glance over at Arilyn. She was still in conversation with Jhambrote, but she had paused to send a frustrated glare his way. It looked to Danilo as if she needed more time, so he pushed his own thoughts aside, struck another chord on his lute, and began another performance.

It was nearly an hour later when Danilo was finally able to end his time in the common room of the Ship's Prow graciously. It had only taken Arilyn half that time to gather the information they needed from Jhambrote and she had spent the rest of the time giving Danilo disapproving looks from the back of the room. Now, as they made their way toward a Harper safe house in the ward, Arilyn took the lead, refused to meet Danilo's gaze, and hardly said three words.

"Oh, come now!" Danilo exclaimed when he could stand it no longer. "I wasn't _that_ bad, was I?"

"No, you're _better_ than that," she said.

Danilo skipped ahead, trying to bring himself into step at Arilyn's side. She picked up her pace a bit and he was forced to do the same to keep up. "What does that mean?" When she didn't reply, he pressed. "Arilyn!"

She stopped short and whirled on him. "I've heard you play," she said, "for real, I mean. You write some fantastic music, pieces that can really move people. But any two-bit, taproom crooner can write songs like the ones you perform."

"Those pieces aren't ready yet and-"

"Oh, that's a likely story," Arilyn cut in sarcastically, whirling away from him and heading toward a non-descript door with a wooden sign hanging over it. The sign proclaimed the place to be the Amethyst Wand Magic Shop and was emblazoned with a stylized rune. The word "refuge" pushed its way into Danilo's mind and he realized it was a Harper rune. This was the place they were heading toward. Arilyn produced a key and opened the door and they both slipped inside.

"It happens to be the truth," Danilo said, defensively as he closed and locked the door behind them. He heard Arilyn easily moving around in the darkness, her low-light vision leading her to a lantern. She struck a sparker and it sprang to life, illuminating the room.

"How would I ever be able to tell?" Arilyn shot back at him.

"That isn't fair, Arilyn. You're my partner. One could, perhaps, _assume_ that I'm not lying to you, as a professional courtesy if not out of respect for... oh, what was that, again? That thing? Oh yes! I remember! Our friendship!"

Arilyn crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with a glare. "Is that what you call leering at my hips constantly?"

In frustration, Danilo slammed his lute into a nearby, careworn stuffed chair. The strings hummed, discordantly, with the soft impact and Danilo turned away from it, massaging the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Turning away from her, he closed his eyes and stood in silence, trying to cool that confounding anger that was rising again.

"Danilo," Arilyn said in a much softer tone, after a long set of silent moments, "I didn't mean-"

"Let's just concentrate on what we need to do," said Danilo, running a hand through his hair. Without meeting her gaze, he went over to the table where the lamp was and grabbed the sparker. He moved from place to place, lighting a series of beeswax candles. "What did you learn from Jhambrote?"

"Aside from the fact that his inn has far too many cats," she replied, "not much that we didn't already know. His assistant is a fifteen-year-old boy named Jacith. Lives with his mother and father in a flat on Presper Street. Jhambrote said he hadn't had as good a worker as him for years; a good, honest kid. The cats even like him. So, when Jacith went missing Jhambrote started asking around, helping the parents try to find him. When word got out that he was looking into the disappearance, other people started coming to him, looking for information about others who are missing. Eight people in all, and every one of them was last seen somewhere between Presper Street and Fish Street."

Danilo set aside the sparker and leaned on the edge of one of the tables. "Sounds like the slavers have a certain area they like to work in," he said thoughtfully.

Arilyn nodded. "Yeah. One where there are a lot of vagabonds and drunkards and people who won't care if some of them go missing. Though, apparently, someone does care because Jhambrote heard of a number of scuffles happening in a place called Twoflask Alley right before some of the disappearances."

"Twoflask Alley, you say?"

"That's right."

Danilo sighed. "I am, officially, not drunk enough for this, then," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arilyn asked, some of the edge coming back to her voice.

"My dear, there is a reason it is called that," Dan answered, "because you have to have gone through two flasks to have the courage to walk down it at night."

"Lovely," Arilyn groused, "and since we don't have much to go on, we'll need to stake it out."

"So it would appear," said Danilo, taking one of the candles in hand, holding it by the brass, scrolled holder it was sitting in, "and while you're hiding in the shadows, I'll need to hide in plain sight." He went over to another door, opposite the one they had come in and opened it.

"How do you intend to do that?" Arilyn asked, just before he went through it into the small room beyond. "You don't exactly look like a street rat."

"By doing what I apparently do best," Danilo answered, surprised at the edge in his voice. "By lying and scheming and pretending to be something that I'm not."

"Danilo, I was going to say-"

He couldn't bring himself to listen to the rest of Arilyn's sentence. He closed the door behind himself and set the candle down on a small chest of drawers nearby. Silently, he leaned against the door and slouched back, putting a hand to his forehead, his other arm wrapping around his stomach. He sighed heavily but shakily. Briefly, as a puzzling but silent sob escaped his throat, he pondered collapsing to the floor altogether and giving into the frustration that was plaguing him. His mind was running in frantic circles, screaming at him that things weren't supposed to be this way; not with Arilyn. For one moment, it conjured up the wish that she had never seen through his façade, had never found out who he really was; that things would be so much easier that way. But immediately after that came the overwhelming protest that, no, that would be even worse.

Things had been much the same way between them just before Arilyn had left on her errand to the north. Danilo had hoped that the time away from each other would give them both a chance to cool off and get used to the idea of their friendship without the other one ever-present. But now that Arilyn was back in his orbit, it was as if nothing had changed. The verbal sparring matches were even worse than they were before, in fact. No one had ever made him so simultaneously angry and happy than Arilyn did.

Rather than spiral into an evening-long analysis of this strange contradiction, Danilo shook himself out of his thoughts. He crossed the room to a large chest and lifted the lid. Inside was a stack of worn, woolen clothes. If he was going to fit in at Twoflask Alley, he would have to look the part.

* * *

If there was a darker, more unpleasant part of Waterdeep, Danilo guessed it had to be in the sewers. Twoflask Alley was a cramped, claustrophobic little section of road that wound around back upon itself. It was damp and cold and stunk of rubbish heaps and worse. There were a few people scattered about, crumpled up in tiny little spaces that offered shelter from the night; a hole within a pile of crates, a cramped space between two buildings.

Danilo had chosen a space near the spot where the alley looped back and crossed itself to take up residence and do his best to imitate a small, huddled mass of rags. He kept the hood of the scratchy and threadbare wool cloak pulled just low enough to keep what little light there was off his face but so that he could still see out. Every once in a while, he would pretend to take a drink from the non-descript bottle he held in hand. Sometimes he actually did take a drink, sending a warm sensation down into his belly and warding off the damp chill of his surroundings.

He knew that Arilyn was somewhere close, in the shadows, keeping watch on him and on the alley at large. That knowledge was the only thing that gave him enough determination to stay where he was. Hours had passed already with no sign of activity from their alleged slavers. They were only a few hours to sunrise. Danilo wondered what they would do if nothing happened.

Just as he was thinking this, a young boy wandered into the alley. He was too well dressed to be a regular vagabond. Danilo guessed he was some sort of a runaway. Certainly, someone would miss him if he disappeared. Perhaps someone already was. The boy wandered down into the alley and found a place that he evidently thought was suitable to spend the night and settled in.

Danilo took a stiff dram from his bottle.

A number of others drifted in from Fish Street and from the next alley over. Suddenly, alarm bells went off in Danilo's head as he realized that there was a cloaked figure on each of the four branches of the alley. If this was it, there was no where for anyone within the crossroads to go, including both the boy and Danilo himself. Silently, he called to mind his spells. Two of the four figures were moving toward the boy and the other two slowly closed in on Danilo.

"Hey! Let go of me!" came a cry from down the alley. Danilo was in motion instantly, springing up to his feet and quickly moving through the somatic component of a spell. He directed it toward one of the shadowy figures that was now lunging toward him and it went off with a flash and a loud pop.

Danilo's assailant fell backward with an exclamation, covering his eyes. There was a flash of silver and Dan was suddenly dodging a blade. He danced past it and backed off, casting another spell as he did. A strong gust of wind knocked his second assailant back into the wall. Quickly, he cast a glance down toward the other end of the alley, where the boy was, and found Arilyn working her handiwork on the other two, her Moonblade glowing blue and dancing in the darkness.

The two figures who were upon him now recovered from their surprise. They regrouped and faced off with Danilo.

"This isn't your lucky night, I'm afraid," Danilo said to them, conjuring up a small fireball and holding it in hand for a moment before launching it at them. As they tried to dodge it, Dan called up another spell and cast it on the ground near them. Their steps faltered and they both slid back into the roaring flames. Danilo hopped to the side as they slid past him into the crossroads.

Meanwhile, Arilyn had plied her trade well and separated the other two cloaked figures from the boy, placing herself between them. Her adversaries, too, found themselves in the center of the crossroads and were dragging their compatriots to their feet.

"_Rinin_!" one of the cloaked figures shouted to the other three. All of them then began to edge toward the crosswise section of the street. Danilo caught Arilyn's eye and noted a certain amount of confusion there, but he didn't have time to ponder it as the slavers began to retreat down the crosswise loop of Twoflask Alley.

They went slowly at first, retreating backward step by step with Danilo and Arilyn following to match distance. Then, the slavers came to another alley, one that branched off of Twoflask to the north. The slavers broke into a run and disappeared around the corner.

"_Itano fortigima_!" Danilo shouted, snapping off a _magic missile_ spell. It snaked around the corner and a moment later they heard a yelp. Arilyn was in motion at the same time, leading the charge after the slavers, Danilo only steps behind her.

They chased the slavers down the alley as it curved around. It wasn't long before they took another branch off to the left and before they knew it, they found themselves running after the slavers down Presper Street. They didn't run long, however, as they came to a small opening in the row of run-down townhouses. The first of the slavers, apparently the leader, motioned the other three into it, then began moving through a series of movements that Dan immediately recognized as the somatic components for a spell.

"Look out!" he shouted, shoving Arilyn aside just as a rolling ball of fire appeared and began to speed toward them. Feeling the intense heat of the magical fire as it passed, he shielded his eyes from it. A moment later, he felt Arilyn's hand on his, pulling it toward her and wrapping it around the hilt of the Moonblade. Instantly, the heat faded and he pushed away from Arilyn.

"Sorry," he said with a grin as the flames licked at them harmlessly, "reflex. Fire hot."

"They're getting away!" Arilyn exclaimed, rolling out from Danilo's protective stance and exiting the fire, pulling him with him by the hand that was holding the Moonblade.

As soon as they had exited the fire and Danilo once again had both hands free, he executed another spell. The fire flared for a moment, then moved toward the tiny passage the slavers had disappeared down. As he and Arilyn followed behind it, he caught sight of the slaver leader's astonished face, seeing his own _flaming sphere_ come rolling after him.

"Counterspell!" Danilo said in a mocking, sing-song tone of voice as the panicked slaver hurried onward through the cramped space. Arilyn led the charge after the fire.

Just ahead of the fire, the slaver jutted to the side where the tiny alley opened up to a open area. Danilo sent the _flaming sphere_ around the corner after him. Arilyn followed after it and Danilo was last into the space. As he rounded the corner, the fire erupted into steam with a hiss and disappeared into the obscuring mist that resulted.

There was a clang of metal on metal a moment later and the sound of splashing water, shallow and quick as if steps in a series of puddles.

As the steam cleared, Danilo found himself and Arilyn face to face with a large, barred opening into a tunnel that descended at a gentle slope into the darkness. Arilyn threw herself at it, grabbing the bars and pulling. It rattled, but didn't open. They could both still hear splashing footfalls fading into the distance and a putrid stench accompanied the sound.

"Sewers," Danilo said, "I was afraid it was going to come to this."

"Can you open it?" she asked him.

"Of course," he replied, lightly, moving through a cantrip absently, "_prestidigitation_ is good for more than parlor tricks, after all." As he finished, there was a click from the lock and the gate swung open. Arilyn went inside and Danilo followed, as fast as he was able.

As he went, Dan fumbled with the opening of the magical _bag of holding_ on his belt. First, he pulled out a piece of chalk, which he ran along the wall as they went, making a short mark. Second, he pulled out a small, magically glowing bracelet which he slipped on to his wrist. Its light illuminated the area around them. Dan kept making marks on the wall with the chalk as they continued deeper into the sewers.

Soon, they came to a four-way intersection. Each of the passages looked the same; dark, wet, cramped, and unpleasant.

"Which way?" Danilo asked.

"Quiet!" Arilyn hissed. "Listen."

There was silence for several moments. Danilo tried to peer down each of the passages in turn but saw nothing but black from each one.

Suddenly, the Moonblade flared to life in Arilyn's hand, glowing its warning blue. There was a chorus of twangs and a series of whistles as arrows began to fly through the air toward them. Arilyn pushed Danilo to the ground, then rolled into a crouch. Two of their assailants appeared out of the darkness, swinging swords at her. Pushing himself off the wet and stinking floor of the sewer, Danilo called to mind another spell, casting it as quickly and subtly as he dared. Then, he pitched his voice low and spoke.

"Halt, in the name of the Lords of Waterdeep and the Watch!" his voice echoed from somewhere behind the two sword-wielding slavers. Momentarily, they both turned, and Arilyn capitalized on the gaffe, smashing her hilt across both their heads. They both staggered back, reeling from the blow. The other two slavers came forward, entering the fray. Danilo lunged at the ankles of one of them, causing them both to tumble to the ground and the slaver's weapon to go clattering off, out of reach. Arilyn quickly became locked in combat with the other.

Danilo and the slaver wrestled back and forth, trying to pin the other. For a moment, Dan feared that he would be at a disadvantage, since he almost never fought that way. But as he and the slaver went back and forth, vying for purchase, it became clear that they were evenly matched. Dan's hand found a grip on the hood of the slaver's cloak and he pulled it back.

He was momentarily stunned by the sight. Staring back at him was the irate face of a moon elf, black hair tousled by the fight, grey eyes glaring in anger.

"_N'Tel'Quess biir_!" the elf exclaimed.

Before Danilo could recover from his surprise, the elf landed a kick to his stomach, finally pushing Dan away. The elf sprang to his feet and just as Danilo was moving forward to lunge at him again, he finished a spell of his own, setting it off inches away from Danilo's face.

All Danilo saw, then, was a bright flash and a dance of colored lights. The ground beneath him tipped and swayed and spots swirled before his eyes. He staggered backward and his back found the wall. He bounced off it, his legs giving way, and he tumbled to the floor, face-first. He heard voices and a myriad of sounds he couldn't identify through the sudden fog that had surrounded his senses. The next thing he could be certain of was Arilyn's voice, a solid surface at his back, and a hand shaking his shoulder.

"Danilo, are you all right?" she asked. He imagined a concerned look on her face, but try as he might he couldn't get his eyes to focus. "What was that?" she pressed.

"_Color Spray_," Danilo answered, dazedly, "I can't see a thing! Go after them! I'll be along."

"That's going to be pretty hard."

"What? Why?"

"After the leader did that to you, he and his cronies passed through a portal," Arilyn answered, "I don't know where it was, but I did get a glimpse of the other side. It's a forest, somewhere."

"That isn't Skullport," Danilo said, acutely aware that he was stating the obvious.

"Yeah. It closed before I could get to it. And besides, you were..."

Danilo waved it off. "I'll be fine," he said, "it will pass in a few moments. Did you see whether or not the elf cast the _portal_ spell just now, or was it just a power word that activated it?"

"What do I know?" she said. "And what does it matter, anyway? We can't follow them, now that it's closed."

"If the portal was already there and was simply activated just now, we might be able to activate it ourselves and pass through it," said Danilo, "if it was just a temporary portal, then we have no way of following. Try to remember. Was it a lengthy incantation, or was it just a single arcane word?"

"I think it was just a single word," said Arilyn with uncertainty, "but I was pretty busy fighting off the other three. I can't be sure."

Shakily, Danilo began to climb to his feet, leaning on the wall. His vision was returning, but it was still fuzzy and the floor still wobbled under him. Arilyn was next to him a moment later, grabbing an elbow in support. "That's good," Danilo said, "that means it was probably a semi-permanent portal that he activated with a power word. It could be the reason the slavers have been operating in this area."

"That's a fair bet," Arilyn agreed, "can you open the portal?"

"Assuming it is one that can be re-opened," said Danilo, "not until tomorrow. The spell it would take isn't in my repertoire for the day. Not to mention the fact that I've used most of my spells for the day already."

"But you could open it?"

"I think so."

"What do you need?"

"The spell and some time. We'll have to come back tomorrow."

"One thing bothers me more than all of this, though," Arilyn remarked as they began their trip back through the sewers, "those were Elves."

"Yes, I saw," Danilo replied, "which makes Zhentarim involvement unlikely."

"It also makes a slaver's ring unlikely," she pointed out.

"But rules neither out, completely, I suppose. This may be more complicated than anyone thought."

"Maybe," Arilyn mumbled, thoughtfully. There was a long pause. "By the way. Chalk marks. Not a bad idea."

"Oh, believe me, this was the last place I wanted to get lost!"

* * *

_A young boy wandered alone down a darkened hallway, his bare feet padding along the cold stone, his fearful eyes searching for something familiar. Whispers echoed from afar and he desperately wished to find them for they were the only sign that anyone was near._

_The hallway twisted and turned as he followed it, never seeming to end and defying all reason. It split often, jutting off in strange directions. The boy aimlessly and randomly followed them, hoping that some luck would grant him an exit to this interminable labyrinth._

_At last, he came to a door. The whispers sounded as if they were behind it, so the boy grasped the handle and pulled. The door did not move, but he could hear some of the words being spoken beyond._

"_How was this possible?"_

"_Can he be healed?"_

"_He is just a boy! He cannot possibly have the skill to tap such power!"_

"_Precisely why he is in this condition."_

_The boy couldn't make sense of the whispers. The words themselves had meaning, but they seemed to defy logic when strung together. Still, they were voices and familiar ones at that. He wanted more than ever to find their source, to find a friendly face in the midst of this nightmare. With determination, he pulled again on the handle of the door and it rattled._

"_Wait!" came another whisper. "Something is happening."_

"_Is he waking up?"_

"_Perhaps."_

_The boy pulled again, bracing his feet against the cold stone wall. He pulled with every bit of will he had. The handle of the door had grown hot, burning. He ignored it; nothing was as important as getting to the voices._

_The door finally gave way, falling inward, sending the boy tumbling back into the wall behind him. The door was surprisingly light as he pushed it off from himself. But the sight which greeted him was worse than any nightmare his young mind had ever conjured in the dead of night. A horrid, monstrous face floated on the other side of the door, dark and fiery. A beard and hair of creeping blood wafted around it and eyes like icy pits stared at him. Two hands extended out from the ghastly sight, gnarled and clawed, reaching for him._

_He couldn't help it. He screamed. He screamed even though there was a word issuing forth from the monstrous face; a word he thought he should answer, somehow._

"_Danilo?"_

_

* * *

  
_

Dan awoke with a start and shot up in bed, throwing back the covers with a gasp. Cold sweat covered his forehead and his hands shook uncontrollably. He looked about, gathering his bearings. His chamber was just as he had left it when he had gone to sleep hours before except that the light of late morning now streamed through his open window. In the distance, Danilo could just hear the tolling of the bells of the City of the Dead ringing their hourly chime.

"Well," he said to himself as he took a deep breath and calmed, "haven't had that dream in some time."

Feeling a chill on his skin, he decided that he had had quite enough sleep for the time being and rose to put on his tunic. Then, he washed his face in the basin which rested on a table near the door. He dried his face with a cloth and looked up to check his reflection in the looking glass.

His eye caught movement in the reflection, somewhere behind him. It looked like some sort of a shadowy demon. Danilo spun around, startled, to find nothing there.

He shook his head with a calming sigh. "Steady on, Danilo," he said, "just old dreams. Nothing to worry about."

However, his gaze now rested upon his desk. Sitting there, as if completely innocent, was a rolled up scroll. It held the spell he would be needing to open the portal without the proper power word. It was a rather high-level spell, at least as high, he figured, as the spell he had used to move the Elfgate months earlier. Just like then, there was a good chance the spell was beyond Danilo's abilities. But he had little choice but to make the attempt.

Cautiously, almost as if he was facing the wrath of the goddess of magic herself, Danilo approached the scroll and unfurled it. The arcane characters shimmered on the page, power woven into their carefully written shapes. Danilo hesitated for a moment, then focused and began the process of committing them to memory.

The words instantly began to rebel against their reading, swirling about and twisting as if running from Danilo's very gaze. Pressure built in his head, threatening to explode outward. Danilo's hands clenched into fists against it, as if holding on to a tiny, thin thread that kept everything tied together.

Soon, the words calmed and stopped dancing across the page and the pressure in Danilo's head subsided, fading to a dull ache behind his eyes. Before long, he had committed the spell to memory. He was aware, then, that the far-off bells were now chiming mid-day.

Just as he was rolling up the spell scroll in order to tuck it away in his desk, there was a knock at his door.

"Danilo, are you going to sleep all day?" It was Arilyn, clearly ready to get under way.

Dan crossed the room to the door, pausing by the looking glass to run a hand through his hair and make himself presentable. When he opened the door, Arilyn was on the other side, geared up for the mission.

"It's about time," she said, "what have you been doing in here? Half the day is gone."

"Sorry," he said with a shrug, "I was studying the spell. It took a while." From a hook by the door, he snatched up his belt and _bag of holding_ and buckled them on. His cloak came afterward.

"You look tired already," Arilyn said.

"Just a little cross-eyed from reading, my dear," he said, mustering up the most winning smile that he could. "Nothing to worry about."

Eyeing him strangely, Arilyn lighted on the edge of Danilo's bed. "You would tell me if there was something wrong, right?"

Danilo gave a laugh, then turned to the shelves above his desk. "My dear, there is absolutely nothing wrong," he said, picking various bottles and pouches off the shelf and dropping them into his bag.

"If it's the spell, we could find someone to-"

"Arilyn, it's fine," Danilo replied, turning back to her and leaning against his desk. "I've got it. It's all right up here." He tapped his temple with a finger. "Now, shall we get this show on the road?"

She looked at him for several moments, studying him in uncomfortable silence. "Show is right," she muttered under her breath as she rose to her feet. "All right," she said, "let's go, then."

* * *

Dock Ward was far less foreboding by daylight. Merchants and traders covered the streets hawking their wares and looking for odd jobs and the shadows weren't as long. Danilo and Arilyn made their way through the throng toward Presper Street, then turned into the back alley where the entrance to the sewers was. It was still unlocked from the previous night, so they passed within without drawing much attention. From there, they followed Danilo's chalk marks back to the place where the slavers had escaped through their portal.

"Where was the portal?" Danilo asked.

"That wall," Arilyn replied, pointing, "I used your chalk to mark the spot."

Danilo's eyes now rested on the place she indicated. The mark jumped out at him, in contrast to the dark and dull stone of the sewer wall. He pressed back a growing knot in his stomach and resolved to forge ahead.

"I doubt I'll be able to keep the portal open for long," he told Arilyn, "be ready to go as soon as I say."

Wordlessly, she nodded her understanding.

Turning back to the spot where the portal was, Danilo took one last, steadying breath before calling the spell to mind. Instantly, the arcane energy of the spell boiled in his mind, seeming to scald his consciousness. He resolved to withstand it, though, and compartmentalized it. It was elsewhere, not within him, as he began the careful and deliberate incantation. With each new word and with each movement of his hands the energy surged, threatening to spill over out of the grasp of his will. The energy swirled about him, threatening to bury him and suck his life away. Finally, as it reached a soul- shattering crescendo, Danilo placed his hand against the wall where the portal was. An outline of blue fire raced around the edge of the portal, then spread inward, revealing a forested scene as it cleared.

The arcane energies felt like knives in Danilo's head and it was all he could do to hold on to it while shouting to Arilyn to go through. He was only vaguely aware that she had heeded the cry, that she darted through quickly. Once she was on the other side, Danilo let himself fall forward, tumbling through as well. He rolled out, flat on his back, on the grassy ground, staring up at trees high above and the dappled sunlight that shone through them. Behind him, he heard a sucking noise as the portal slammed closed.

Dan gasped as the Weave poured back out of him, leaving a vacuum. His heart pounded as if attempting to fill it. And from somewhere, Dan received the strange notion that the spell should not have worked.

Arilyn was above him, now, crouching beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "You all right?"

"Yes," he said, catching his breath as he slowly sat up, "just... utterly exhausted."

Arilyn pulled the Moonblade partway out of its scabbard and checked the blade before putting it away again. "It looks like there isn't any danger here, right now," she said, "stay here and rest up for a moment while I try and find their trail."

Danilo nodded his agreement and sighed as his breath finally stopped eluding him.

It was several minutes later that Arilyn returned. Danilo got to his feet as she approached. "So, any idea where we are?" he asked.

"Ardeep Forest, I think," she replied. "I climbed a tree and got a pretty good look around. I could just make out Waterdeep straight west of here."

"And the slavers?"

"They moved north-east from here," she said, "and it wasn't the first time."

"Ah, so they _have_ been using the portal for a while."

"Looks that way. They probably have a camp not far from here."

"Well, we might as well continue," Danilo said, "lead onward, my dear." He gestured in roughly a north-easterly direction and waited to follow Arilyn's lead.

It was about two hours later that Danilo began to feel completely superfluous. He trailed along after Arilyn as she poked and prodded her way through the woods, taking note of even the slightest bend in the branches or the smallest disturbance in the layer of fallen leaves that covered the ground. Dan was increasingly convinced that she was faking it. Of course, he also knew better than to question her about it.

Their path took them north for a while along a semi-defined path; or, at least it seemed to Danilo as if it could have been a path a long time ago. It faded away and reappeared at entirely random intervals, now joining to a water run-off, now thickening into a patch of brambles, now opening into a deer run. As they went along, Arilyn quietly pointed out some of the signs she was following in an attempt to give Dan some insight. But the longer they traveled, the less she did so and soon she had ceased altogether and had fallen completely silent. She seemed increasingly on edge and Danilo could hardly blame her. His head was growing heavier and soon there was a very distracting ringing in his ears and an ache behind his eyes.

As Arilyn was reading still another sign, Danilo paused to lean up against a nearby tree and massage the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. Once again, Arilyn pulled the Moonblade from its sheathe and looked to it. There was no sign of danger in its blade and she seemed dissatisfied by it.

"I feel like we're being watched," she said, "but the Moonblade is showing no danger." In frustration, she turned back to look at him and came up short when she saw him. "You all right?"

"A headache," Danilo admitted, waving it off, "probably just tired, that's all."

"Need to rest?"

With some effort, Danilo pushed himself away from the tree. "We don't have time for that. Due respect to the Moonblade, but we are capable of being watched without the threat of immediate danger. We shouldn't discount your instincts."

"You're probably right," she said in a tone that suggested resignation to the idea, "if you're certain you're all right."

In answer to her query, he motioned her ahead, so they went onward. Danilo needed something to take his mind off the horrible ringing in his ears, so he floated a question that had been on his mind for some time.

"When we find the slavers' camp, what do you propose we do?"

"I suppose I hadn't given it much thought," she admitted, "I figured we would do some reconnaissance and then come up with a plan. Between your spells and my sword, I'm sure we have a decent chance at capturing them or at least freeing any captives they might have."

"My spells," said Danilo, thoughtfully, "about that. The spell that opened the portal was rather high level."

"I know," she replied, "that was why you were nervous about casting it."

"I was not nervous about casting it."

"Yes, you were."

"At any rate," Danilo said, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he had intended, "usually I would have been unable to cast the spell. But sometimes, higher level spells can be cast if the wizard is willing to sacrifice his ability to cast several lower-level spells."

Arilyn stopped short, her shoulders dropping in frustration. "Don't tell me," she said, turning back to him.

"I have an _acid arrow_, a spell of _darkness_, and a handful of _magic missiles_ at my disposal and that's all."

Arilyn threw up her hands and momentarily turned away from him, as if searching for a choice word or two. "You didn't think to mention this _before_ we went through the portal?" she finally snapped.

"I had hoped not to have to use the technique, to be honest," he replied, defiantly putting his hands on his hips, "but it is no simple thing to overcome the will of another wizard, such as bypassing their power word."

"All right, all right," said Arilyn, "we'll just have to work with whatever we have at our disposal. We'll check the place out before we decide on anything. If we need to retreat to somewhere safe and rest up, we will. And if we need to return to Waterdeep for help, then that is a risk we will have to take. But next time, you _tell_ me about things like this!"

"You have my solemn vow on that, my dear," Danilo said, raising his hand in a sarcastic show of an oath as he flashed her a grin.

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Arilyn turned away from him and began moving north once again. Danilo followed her, noting that his headache was dissipating at last.

Arilyn's attention turned once again to following the signs through the forest, her focus now entirely on the task. Danilo couldn't quite tell if it was to keep from yelling at him or to make certain she didn't miss anything.

They had gone barely twenty feet when a glimmer caught Danilo's eye, coming from Arilyn's left hip, a rich, arcane blue.

"Arilyn! The Moonblade!" he whispered as loudly as he dared.

Her hand flew to it immediately and she was just in the process of unsheathing it when a rustling sounded in the trees above them. Several figures in black dropped down around the two of them and very quickly Danilo found himself face to face with the elven wizard from the sewers. In short order, Danilo was dodging the wizard's grasp as it crackled with energy like lightning. He backpedaled several feet, giving himself room and time to draw his rapier before the wizard could attack again. Quickly, he cast a glance in Arilyn's direction. She was already hard at work, fending off no less than three longsword-wielding elven fighters; two gold and a moon, Dan noted.

"Valaith!" one of them called. "_Soora sy A'Tel'Quess_!"

That last word Danilo knew. "A'Tel'Quess" translated roughly to "almost-person" in the Elven language. The elves had noticed that Arilyn was a half-elf and, judging from the way they said it, that fact seemed to make them none too happy.

The elven wizard's head swiveled around momentarily to look to Arilyn before he rather wisely put his attention back on Danilo.

"_Teuvel nes haelan_?" he called out to his compatriots, sounding at once both shocked and disgusted.

"_Deth_!" one of the other elves answered.

"_Biir ainilessa_!" the wizard growled out, leveling a particularly menacing gaze at Danilo.

"Yes, yes, I know," said Danilo, dodging several attacks from a longsword that the wizard had produced. "I'm such a terrible person."

The two of them exchanged a series of thrusts and jabs. Danilo found himself leading the majority of the fight, sidestepping the elf's attacks and driving him in a number of directions with his footwork. Dan was no virtuoso with a sword, but he was clearly more well-trained than his opponent. It wasn't long before the elf realized this as well and retreated away from Danilo several steps.

"_Eithun_!" the elf cried.

In answer to his call, a chorus of arrows whizzed through the air, sending everyone in the area ducking for cover. Arilyn regrouped with Danilo as they took cover behind a stand of trees.

"They're firing from that glade over there," Arilyn told him, pointing roughly north, "the high ground. I think some of them might be in the trees as well."

"Awfully organized, aren't they?"

"I saw a sigil on one of their tunics. I think they might be Eldreth Veluuthra."

The mention of Faerûn's most famous elven bigots did little to bolster Danilo's morale. Hearing the thunk of an arrow hitting the tree at his back, he looked to Arilyn in horror.

"Well, they can't exactly be thrilled with us, then," he said, "I heard one of them say '_teuvel_.' That's 'moonblade,' isn't it?"

An arrow flew past Arilyn dangerously close to her head. She flinched away from it, but seemed otherwise unfazed. "Yes," she said, "which means they've noticed. And they know I'm a half-elf."

Another whole flight of arrows came at them, several hitting the trees with a series of loud thwacks and twangs, several more whistling past them and flying off into the forest.

"They've got us pinned down," said Danilo, "we need to do something."

"You need your spells for the attack on their camp!" Arilyn protested.

"We won't make it _to_ their camp if I don't do something!"

Grinding her teeth, Arilyn nodded to him and readied the Moonblade for action. Danilo called to mind his spells and quickly glanced around the safe zone of his hiding place. He just caught sight of one of the archers, then ducked back into his cover, chanting the spell for _magic missile_. At the very last moment, he stepped out and pointed to his target, sending the spell firing, unerringly, in the archer's direction.

And then something that should have been impossible happened. The _magic missile_ stopped dead in mid-air and disappeared before reaching Dan's target. He ducked back around his tree to safety just before another volley of arrows was loosed.

"It failed!" he exclaimed, as if the world had just visited the worst insult imaginable upon him. "_Magic missile_ never fails! It _always_ hits!"

"Did you cast it wrong?" Arilyn asked.

"I wouldn't still be standing if I had! I don't under... oh, by the Nine Hells! They're firing from a zone of no magic! The Ardeep is lousy with them! We traveled through one earlier! That's why I had a headache and the Moonblade didn't warn us of danger even though your instincts were going wild!"

"Oh, that's just fantastic!" Arilyn groused. "I'll need some cover."

"One spell of _darkness_, coming right up," Danilo said, beginning the somatic component of the spell. As he finished it, a black fog materialized out of the air and rose up around them, blotting out the sunlight and making the entire area as dark as an unlit cave. The arrows stopped flying and Danilo heard several confused voices coming from the direction of the archers. There was a movement of air next to him and he just caught the faint scent of the recently-oiled leather of Arilyn's bracers. She was in motion and soon there was a commotion from the archers. It grew and faded several times and Danilo surmised that Arilyn was skirting in and out of the darkness to get the drop on some of them.

Danilo knew that he had to move from his hiding place and soon. If the wizard decided to try and do something about him, he would be unprepared for what would come and would probably lose the concentration on the _darkness_ spell. It took little effort to keep it going, but it was effort none the less. He pulled his bracelet of _light_ from his bag and put it on. It illuminated just enough area that he could see well enough to move. He crept in the direction he had heard Arilyn move, slowly approaching the zone of no magic and the edge of the darkness.

A twig snapped off to his right, somewhere outside his small patch of magical light. Complete silence followed it and Danilo froze, listening. He thought he heard soft muttering, arcane words. Quickly, he readied another spell, hopefully one that would do some damage, _acid arrow_.

The elf wizard finished his spell first, shouting out the last words of his incantation. The air around Danilo exploded with a roar and he found himself sailing off to one side just as he finished his own incantation. His ears ringing, his head spinning, he landed hard in the middle of a clearing and watched helplessly as the spell he had just finished fizzled out. The _darkness_ spell, too, faded, and Danilo realized that he had landed in the zone of no magic. His head aching terribly, he sprang to his feet as he found several elven swordsmen advancing on him. He brought his rapier to bear and began moving toward one end of the line of three. He blocked a high slash from the first, catching the blade in his quillions and sending a thrust straight back at the swordsman. The other two began to circle around behind, so Danilo began to backpedal to keep from being surrounded. He blocked a low attack by tossing it aside with his off-hand as he sent a thrust in at the attacker. With a backward jerk of his body, the elf avoided the blow. The other two continued to close in from the sides, leaving Danilo with no where to go but deeper into the zone of no magic.

His head was swimming and nearly screaming with pain, sapping his energy and ruining his concentration. A moment later, and he had something else to dwell on. As he fended off his three attackers, he caught sight of the blue-glowing Moonblade off in the now-brightened forest outside the zone of no magic. Arilyn was busy fighting two swordsmen and the wizard. The Moon Elf let loose a _scorching ray_ in her direction and she only barely managed to avoid it.

Just then, something hard flashed across the back of Danilo's skull, sending him to his knees and his rapier clattering off out of his reach. Another blow landed in his solar plexus, sending his breath flying out of his lungs with abandon and driving him to the ground. Hands were on him a moment later, holding his arms and hauling him cruelly to his knees. As another hand viciously brought his head up, he found himself now looking at four fighters.

Danilo just barely caught sight of Arilyn slipping into the underbrush and away as a black-gloved fist came sailing toward him and introduced him to blackness.

At least he would have a break from the headache.

* * *

Danilo did, indeed, have a break from his headache. However, he paid for it later. The throbbing in the back of his skull brought him up from the encasing blackness of unconsciousness, reluctantly. He was certain there was blood where the blow that had been his undoing had landed.

There were voices speaking all around him in words he could not understand. But, from the lilting tones he guessed that it was Elvish.

Gods under Ao, his head hurt! Almost involuntarily, he moved his hands to rub the offending spot. And that was when he realized his couldn't. Something cold and hard was pulling on his wrists, holding him fast to the rough surface against which he had been propped. He tested the fastening and heard a metallic rattle.

Chains. Perfect. A rope he could wear through, but chains? There was no way he was getting out of them. Not on a bet.

Danilo finally ventured to open his eyes. The shadows in the surrounding glade were long and the light orange, suggesting that it was sometime near sunset. But that wasn't what held his attention. He found himself face to face with the cold, blue face of the Moon Elf wizard.

"Awake at last," the elf said.

"So it would seem," Dan replied.

With a tilt of his head and a sarcastic smile, the elf hummed a response in the affirmative. Then, it vanished and one of his hands shot out, grabbing Danilo by the throat and forcing his head back into the tree to which he was bound. Danilo saw stars for a moment and allowed himself the luxury of a small grunt of pain.

"Why are you following us?"

"You just seemed so frightfully interesting," Danilo choked out, "after all, it isn't every day you see Elven slavers daring to pluck people from the very streets of Waterdeep."

The two of them locked eyes for a moment, their wills sparring almost as surely as if they had both drawn swords and begun to duel. Finally, the elf let go of Danilo's throat and got up from the crouch in which he had been situated in front of his captive. He wandered over to a small table nearby and plucked a wine skin from it.

"You've trifled with more than you know, human," he said, taking a pull from it.

"You mean, the Eldreth Veluuthra?" Danilo said, somewhat smugly, getting a bit of satisfaction from the elf's pause. "I'll admit, I was surprised to learn that you were resorting to common slavery. I had thought you simply killed non-elves outright rather than muck about with carting us around to far-off places."

"Even the Eldreth Veluuthra have to earn a living," said the elf, "defending the People from the advance of the N'Tel'Quess is a thankless quest."

"Also a trifle overkill, really."

"Hardly," said the elf, fixing Danilo with a hard and wickedly venomous glare. "My name is Valaith Kel'Furador. I am the last of the family Kel'Furador. Thanks to an unprovoked attack upon my childhood home by a band of Orcs and Goblins, my entire family was wiped out, including my younger brother."

"And for that, you blame all non-Elves? Really, I should think it would be time to reexamine your thoughts. Orcs and Goblins are hardly representative of everyone else."

"My home was betrayed to the Orcs by a human," said Valaith, "so you see, it was that night that I learned that no N'Tel'Quess should be trusted, or indeed, allowed to rule Faerûn." He took another pull from the wineskin before wandering back toward Danilo. "You seem to have some surprising skill with magic, for a human. You know my name. I would know yours."

"Well, you would have a bit of a wait to learn it. Perhaps one day, I'll send a message to you in the Abyss."

Valaith pulled back a hand and struck Danilo across the face, whipping his head to the side.

"For one of the Eldreth Veluuthra to ask the name of an N'Tel'Quess is a compliment. That you would thus throw it back at me only goes to prove my point. Fine, remain anonymous. It matters not to me. I am much more interested in your partner, the A'Tel'Quess mongrel."

"Ohh, that word again," Danilo said with a grimace, "you know, you might want to ask the last person who called her that how it worked out for him."

"What is her name? Who was her Elven parent? And, most importantly, how is it that she defiles a Moonblade by carrying it and wielding it?"

"In reverse order," said Danilo, "she rightfully claimed it, you wouldn't believe me if I told you, and..." Here he added a darkly sarcastic chuckle, his grey eyes flashing steel. "You must be joking, if you think I would tell you that."

There was a long pause as Valaith stared at him, hard, venom dripping in his gaze. "You believe yourself to be terribly clever, don't you," he said, beginning to circle Danilo and the tree to which he was shackled.

"Well, that is, quite simply, because I _am_ terribly clever."

While he was circling around behind Danilo, Valaith suddenly dipped toward the ground and took hold of the chain that held Danilo's hands fast. He gave it a vicious tug upward, sending a sharp pain shooting through Dan's shoulders. Involuntarily, Danilo pitched forward and gave a yelp.

"Not clever enough to avoid capture," Valaith bit out, angrily, "understand, human, that the A'Tel'Quess is the only reason you are still alive. We want her more than we want you. One way or another, we will find her. The only question is how much you will suffer on her behalf before then."

"You will learn nothing of her from me," Danilo shot back, his teeth clenched tightly against the pain in his shoulders.

"Likely, you will change your mind," Valaith said, "humans aren't exactly known for their loyalty, much less to anyone with elven blood." He added in an extra tug on the shackles before letting them go and allowing Dan's arms to drop back to a more natural position. "Tell me where to find her."

Danilo leaned his head back against the tree and took a few calming breaths. Then, he locked his steely gaze with Valaith's. "To the lowest of the Hells with you."

* * *

When it came to the passage of time, the only thing that Danilo was certain of was that enough time had passed for the sun to finish setting. The rest was a barrage of verbal sparring, threats, and an array of punches thrown across his face. Dan was sure he looked simply awful by that point. It was going to be a challenge coming up with a reason for all the various hurts when he and Arilyn returned to Waterdeep. He doubted he had it in him to open the portal again and return by covert means, so they were likely in for a trip on foot through the main gate. Oh, how tongues were going to wag!

In some form, Danilo was aware of what Valaith was saying. He was also aware that he was throwing back some foppishly witty response to the elf; one that would earn him a firm smack across the face.

Oh! Nope. Not this time. Apparently, the time had come for a gut shot. Well, at least there was variety.

Somehow, Danilo managed to compartmentalize what was happening. He allowed his fool persona to take control of his body while his true self watched from the safety of his own mind. He kept just enough of his true self in the exchange with Valaith to keep from saying anything that would hurt Arilyn. He was surprised to find that his persona eagerly welcomed the small intrusion, drawing upon it to rally against the onslaught.

It seemed like such a simple thing to say "no" over and over again. That it required determination was something that had never occurred to Danilo. He had, of course, heard tales of men enduring torture before; torture much worse than this. But he had never comprehended it before. Likely, it meant that he was unprepared for it and would break eventually. The only thing that was up in the air was how long it was going to take.

Just how much was his loyalty to Arilyn worth to him, he wondered. He rolled that thought around in his mind for several minutes before coming to a surprising conclusion.

He would die for it. Why was that, he ruminated.

Just as he finished that thought, he realized that something had made his fool persona begin to outright panic. His own small bit of steel was beginning to fail. Whatever Valaith was threatening now was going to require sterner stuff than the Fop of Waterdeep could supply. So, even though it meant bearing the abuse himself, Danilo returned to his senses.

"Sorry, Valaith," he said, "my ears were still ringing from that last punch. Could you say that again?"

"Stalling won't get you anywhere," the elf replied.

"Still, a bit of common courtesy, you know."

Valaith strode toward Danilo, slowly, until he was just within range of Danilo's sight in the dark, silhouetted against the dim firelight of the Eldreth Veluuthra's camp. The corner of his mouth turned up, just slightly, in a menacing smile, as he held up three objects in front of Dan's face; two large iron nails and a hammer.

"You're awfully calm for a wizard who has just been told he will never cast a spell again," said the elf.

Okay, so the fool persona had a reason to panic. Who knew?

Two of Valaith's warriors came forward out of the shadows, each taking hold of one of Danilo's wrists and holding them firmly against the tree. Danilo thrashed against their grasp to no avail. In short order, even as Dan struggled, Valaith had forced the tip of one of the nails against the skin of his palm.

"Last chance," said the elf, "tell me where to find the A'Tel'Quess who defiles a Moonblade and I'll forgo this. She can't be worth all this to you."

But a thought forced its way into Danilo's mind; she was.

And suddenly, anything that Valaith was planning for him became unimportant. There was no need for Danilo to struggle. There was no decision to be made. He stopped straining against the stronger hands that were holding him and leaned his head back against the tree, calmly and silently. He simply closed his eyes and waited, heedless of what Valaith was about to do. It didn't matter.

"Have it your way, then," snarled Valaith. Danilo imagined that he was pulling back the hammer in preparation for a strike. He set his jaw in preparation.

But the strike never came. Instead, there was a sudden commotion behind Danilo and the two brutes holding his wrists disappeared with a surprised yelp into a rustle of leaves. Dan's eyes snapped open just in time to see a confused and upset Valaith stumble into view in front of him, calling for the rest of his team to join him. Six came from places that Dan couldn't see, appearing out of the shadows and encircling Valaith at his command. All of them jumped and turned at several noises.

Daggers appeared in the throats of two of them simultaneously and they each went down with a watery rattle. Several moments later, something made two more trip, falling flat on their faces before being dragged to some hellish doom in the darkness of the woods. Valaith and his two remaining thugs exchanged some words in Elvish that Danilo couldn't understand, then began to edge in a direction that Valaith indicated, back toward the main part of their camp. Danilo couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard some spell on the wizard's lips. Before he could complete it, ghostly phantoms slashed forth from the brush, striking down the two remaining thugs. An instant later, and there was a flash of eldtritch light and Valaith was gone.

He had fled into a portal, leaving his entire band to die at the hands of whatever was in the wood.

Suddenly, Danilo was alone in the darkness, helplessly shackled to a tree with a silent killer skulking about just outside of his sight in the shadows. The brush rustled and twigs snapped in several directions over the course of several moments, causing Dan to jump with each noise. His blood pulsed in his ears and terror gripped his chest.

And then, a figure appeared out of the darkness, a shadow against the dim firelight. Glowing blue eyes looked his direction and narrowed, then looked down at one of the bodies at its feet. The sword in its grasp was thrust downward into the gut of the nearest corpse. Then, it slowly made its way toward Dan, and the features of the face of his partner resolved themselves to his vision, her eyes hard as a chill wind and angry as a raging fire. She reached out a hand a put two fingers under his chin, gently lifting his face as if to inspect the damage Valaith had done. Her touch was like ice and it stole away Danilo's breath, leaving him gasping and unable to speak.

"Enough," said a voice to one side, "leave him to me. Return. They've paid for it."

Danilo couldn't help but whip his head around to follow the voice, his eyes wide with fear. There, too, he saw Arilyn. Only this Arilyn was not the swirling maelstrom of flame and frost that now crouched before him. The latter stood and the two of them gazed at each other for a long moment. Then, the one that was so cold she burned slowly strode toward the other, fading as she did. The one that was left closed her eyes and took a calming breath as she sheathed her Moonblade. Then, she turned to look at him with a gaze more familiar, more like herself.

"By the Goddess! Are you all right?" she asked him as she rushed forward, taking the place where her Elfshadow had been moments before, concern evident in her voice.

"Arilyn," he answered, his voice shaking. Try as he might, he couldn't catch his breath.

"You look ready to pass out," she said, putting a calming hand on his shoulder. When that only worked partially to her satisfaction, she moved it up to the side of Dan's face. Danilo found himself leaning into it, ever so slightly, letting the panic and fear ebb away as he did. Then, he realized what he was doing and shook it off.

"That was cutting it just a little closely, wasn't it?" he said, his breath still coming more deeply than he would have cared to admit.

"Sorry," Arilyn said, earnestly, "I had to take care of the ones guarding the captives, first. Let's get you out of these shackles. Where's the key?"

Danilo finally caught his breath and let it out in a tortured sigh. "The wizard had it," he said, letting his head fall back against the tree.

"Oh," said Arilyn, an apologetic look crossing her features, "it's a good thing for you I'm good with locks, then."

As Arilyn began to work at the shackles on his wrists, the last of Danilo's fear finally drifted away. Finally, he allowed himself to feel his hurts, knowing that Arilyn would do her best to see to them for the moment.

* * *

As promised, Arilyn made short work of the shackles. She then forced some water and some hard tack into him until she decided that his color was better. Only then did she allow him to stand and led him, slowly, to the place in the woods where she had left the abductees she had freed earlier.

There were six former captives in all. Most of them were adolescent boys, including Jacith, the young assistant of Jhambrote Harkhardest at the Ship's Prow Inn. Two more were young girls, sisters it looked like, clinging to each other. The last was the oldest of the group, a young woman who had taken charge of them. She did her best to look after them, even raising a spear and demanding to know who was approaching when Arilyn and Danilo came near.

Her name, it turned out was Ruuth. What she had been doing when she was abducted remained her own closely guarded secret. But reading between the lines, Danilo got the distinct impression that she had been searching for the Harpers in an effort to join them. Evidently, she had put herself into some danger in seeking the semi-secret organization. Dan could respect that, so he dropped a few hints that Silverymoon would be the place to go.

With the exception of Jacith, the rest of the former captives were orphaned street kids. They each expressed interest in going to Silverymoon as well, so Ruuth volunteered to see to it they got there safely, leaving a bad of three to return to Waterdeep.

But first, they needed supplies. As a group, they returned to the slavers' camp to salvage what was useful. In the process, Danilo found his rapier and his green _bag of holding_, still in tact and its contents untouched. When they found a small healer's kit, Arilyn marched Danilo to the nearest log and set about seeing to some of his bruises and scrapes.

"Danilo, you know I can take care of myself," Arilyn said, out of the blue, when the others were out of earshot, "I don't need to be protected."

"No worries, my dear," Danilo responded lightly, "I know that quite well." He winced slightly as she dabbed a wet cloth on the clotted mess that was the back of his head.

"You could have just told them how to find me. I could have taken care of them. Not that I don't appreciate the act of chivalry, but didn't you take it a little far?"

"Perhaps," said Dan.

"Why?" Arilyn asked.

Dan gave a bit of a shrug. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time," he said, perhaps more softly and ponderously than he had intended. "Tactically sound and all that," he amended quickly, "after all, you were my best hope of rescue. And what sort of partner would I be if I gave you up?"

Arilyn breathed out a short chuckle. "You don't have anything to prove to me," she said.

"Oh, all right," he said, jokingly "next time, I'll let them come after you."

"I didn't say that," she responded in kind.

Danilo turned, slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder at her. "Good heavens, woman! Will you make up your mind!"

"Hold still!" she scolded, turning his head back to where it had been. Dan winced again as she continued to dab at the head wound.

Somewhere, from the depths of Danilo's mind, understanding came to him. Arilyn's care was the thanks she could not find words to express.

He accepted it gladly.

_End Episode Three_

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Wow! So, that got written a whole lot faster than I thought it would! Strangely enough, it also ended up being the longest one thus far! Guess I really got on a roll with it! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and offered up words of encouragement. I'll do my best to have the same happen with episode four, but it is a far less developed plot bunny. Hopefully the wondrous power of outlining will help with it.

The Elvish language for the Forgotten Realms is somewhat lax in its grammar. Even the authors have said as much. Some have said that it is just a "slightly modified just enough to avoid copyright infringement" version of Sindarin from Lord of the Rings. As someone who has actively studied Sindarin, I can assure you that it isn't. The best that Realms Elvish does is have a dictionary. Others, more patient souls than I, have compiled the list of known Realms Elvish words and phrases at (_triple-w-dot-angelfire-dot-com/rpg2/dagnirion/Elven-dot-html_) It is a fantastic resource for anyone who wants to write a Realms story with Elves. The grammar itself is pretty much jibberish. Hopefully, context will give you the meanings of the phrases.

My descriptions of Danilo's magic are based upon the rules for 3.5 Dungeons & Dragons, right down to the spell descriptions and the rules for counterspelling. I did, however, play it a little fast and loose with the metamagic rules, essentialy home-brewing a feat for Dan that the story needed. Players, there is no feat, of which I am aware, that allows you to cast a spell that you would otherwise be unable to cast. The closest one is the one that allows you to maximize the spell to the highest level you can cast. Danilo, however, is special and can go a step further.

Of course, the waters are further muddied by the fact that EC wrote about our heroes using the rules for 2nd edition, not 3rd. Oy vey.

As always, I look forward to hearing what people think and would love to get a few reviews in my inbox. You're not obligated or anything, but it gives me warm fuzzies.

Here's a preview for episode four.

_Episode Four: Crushing Blow_

_Set between Elfshadow and The Bargain. When Arilyn is believed killed in a cave in near Silverymoon, Danilo mourns and vows to return the Moonblade to her Elven family. But he soon discovers that the Moonblade is still active and that Arilyn is still alive... and that he left her behind!_

Sweet water and light laughter to you, until next we meet!

Berz.


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